#never thought i'd see the day that i'd think someone could be more immature than griefers on wow but here we are

[sheyshen]

if any of y'all could do me a solid and report this griefer that's been hanging out by the limsa aetheryte on malboro that would be lovely. I don't need to name names you'll know exactly who i'm talking about if you go there

[bro-atz]

freesia [flower garden — wooyoung]

inspired by: stranger than friends — webtoon

in which: all wooyoung wants is someone to love him.

pair: college student!wooyoung/gn!reader

word count: 1.6k

content: fluff, childish and immature (but trustworthy) wooyoung, a lot of drunk wooyoung, mentions of alcohol and drinking, a lot of swearing

rating: PG/PG-13 | safe for work!

flower garden masterlist

"I'm so over this! I hate love!"

"Jung Wooyoung, I swear to God—"

"No, Kang Yeosang, you don't understand! I am tired! I am tired of being alone! I'm tired of seeing the four of you dating and having the time of your lives while me? Wither poor fucking Wooyoung," a very drunk Wooyoung exclaimed at the top of his lungs.

"I think you're going to have a hard time because of, well, this," San pointed out— he thought he was being helpful, but he most certainly was not.

"Shut the fuck up, Choi San," the drunken boy mumbled before taking a giant swig from the shared vodka bottle sitting in the middle of the group.

"Sure, because none of us wanted more vodka," Yunho grimaced.

Wooyoung shot the boy a stink eye before falling to the ground. He was fine— he was just being dramatic and falling to the ground like a damsel in distress. The boys knew this routine of his at this point, and instead of console him like the had done countless times in the past, they just ignored him.

"Seriously, Wooyoung. I didn't find my significant other by acting like this," Mingi said with a gentle sigh. "You gotta change this attitude of yours."

"What attitude?"

"This one! This childish and immature ass of yours!" Yeosang blew up; he was honestly extremely tired of hearing Wooyoung sing the same fucking song over and over again for however long they had been friends.

"What, so I should act like fucking Mr. Prim-and-Proper over here? Or like Mr. Humble-Gentleman over there? I'm not a fucking flower boy," Wooyoung frowned as he pointed to Yunho and San respectively.

"No, you don't have to change who you are, but you could maybe try not acting like a spoiled brat and more like a grown adult," Yunho explained.

"But I'm not a grown adult. I'm a college student. We all are college students. You guys need to act your age."

Then, Wooyoung launched into one of his long rants, making the other four boys officially give up for the night. Talking to a drunk Wooyoung was like talking to an annoying, drunk wall. They just let him burn himself out and continued drinking peacefully amongst each other the second Wooyoung passed out for the night.

The next morning, Wooyoung woke up with the most insane hangover— he had never had a hangover before, so he was honestly shocked and scared.

"I'm gettin' too old for this crud," he started that morning as he plopped himself in the barstool near the kitchen.

"Shut the fuck up. You're a college student," Yunho, who was the first one up that morning, retorted while making his morning coffee. "But you could ease up on the alcohol."

"Gee, you think?"

"Anyway," Yunho side-stepped Wooyoung's heavy sarcasm. "Do you remember anything from last night?"

"Of course I do," Wooyoung said without a hint of sarcasm this time around. "I always remember. I may be drunk, but I'm still mentally there."

"Right. Well, consider it. If you seriously want to be in a relationship, then not acting like a kid may help. People like more mature and serious guys."

"As if you know dating culture so well," Wooyoung scoffed.

"Mmm, considering I've been dating my significant other for five years, I'd say that I know how dating and relationships work by now. More than you for sure."

Wooyoung glared at the tall boy as he smiled smugly at him before heading out of the kitchen to start his day. Checking the time, Wooyoung grumbled to himself as he got himself ready for class. As much as he would love to skip the class he had, it was a lab, and he didn't want to screw over his lab partner. He might've been childish and immature, but you could always trust him to be there at least.

And thankfully for him and his blinding headache, this lab was a darkfield microscopy, which meant that the entire lab was going to be dark. Right before class, he popped a couple of painkillers and stepped into the room to see that they were assigned new lab partners. At first, Wooyoung was resentful because his lab partner was the literal best in dealing with him and his shenanigans, but the second Wooyoung saw who his partner was, he was thanking all the immortal entities in the universe.

He thought it could've been his drunk mind, but you were the most stunning person he had ever met. You were gorgeous with your hair tucked back, and even with the lab goggles on, you had the most beautiful eyes that Wooyoung could spot from miles away. Every single thing you did was so elegant and so graceful, and even though all you were doing was dropping blood onto the slide, it was the most magical thing he had ever seen in his entire life.

What he loved even more was that you would play into his antics. The lab was pretty quiet, so Wooyoung would whisper random jokes here and there to you, and you would respond with the most beautiful chuckle that made his heart swoon over and over and over again. Wooyoung was smitten, obsessed, and dare he say it—

"I'm in love!" Wooyoung cheered at the top of his lungs.

It was boys night again, and this time, Wooyoung was drunk, but he was happy.

"You're weirding me out, lowkey," San watched Wooyoung with wary eyes as he twirled around the dorm.

"San, you don't understand," Wooyoung sighed blissfully. "My lab partner is just... God, my lab partner is perfect. Also! Also, their name!"

He repeated your name, the syllables rolling off his tongue smoothly, your name leaving his lips like a knife cutting through warm butter. And for the rest of the night, that's all he could do. He just kept saying the name of the person he was completely in love with, pissing off his friends in a new way.

Alas, the lab had to end, and Wooyoung feared that you would never speak to him again. You had shared a microscope for a solid two weeks, but neither of you thought to ask to exchange phone numbers. Wooyoung wanted to, don't get him wrong, but every time he thought about doing it, he would chicken out because his heart would be racing at a million miles an hour, and he didn't want you to reject him or for him to have a heart attack just because he was going to ask someone out.

"You just need to ask. It's so simple," Mingi tried helping Wooyoung before he had to go to class.

"Wow, it's as if I didn't consider doing that. Thanks," Wooyoung, using his signature sarcasm, replied.

"Just rip the bandaid off, dude. I don't know what else to tell you. If they reject you, then you just move on. If not, then hooray, your efforts paid off."

"Also, you usually have no shame screaming at the top of your lungs while we're out in public drinking, so why are you finding it so hard to ask someone out?" Yeosang asked.

"Are you saying I should drink then ask them out?"

"No!" both boys chorused at the same time.

"Fucking— Just be yourself, Wooyoung," Yeosang said with a deep sigh. "Just give them a fucking flower and tell them you like them with a dumb joke that you usually make."

"But, I thought you told me I should change? That I should be more mature because people don't like childish, immature guys."

"Don't make me punch you. Get the fuck out, go to class, and for the love of God, just ask."

With Yeosang's words in mind, Wooyoung did exactly that. He was confident and outgoing, so asking you out shouldn't have been as big of a task as he was making it. So, he summoned up all of the courage within him, and he vowed to himself to do it that day.

"Wait! Wait," Wooyoung stopped you after class one day. "I... I want to ask you something."

"What's up?"

"So... Oh my fucking God, I don't know how to say this," Wooyoung muttered to himself, unaware that you could hear him. "Why the fuck is it so hard for me to tell you I like you?"

"I like you too, Wooyoung," you helped him out.

"Oh fuck, you heard that?" Wooyoung covered his mouth, his face turning bright red. "I'm going to jump out the window I'm so embarrassed!"

"Oh my God, Wooyoung! I said I like you too! You don't need to do that!" you couldn't help but laugh when Wooyoung actually turned to look for the nearest window to fling himself out of.

"W-Wait... You like me too?"

"Yeah, I do," you shot him the cutest smile that made him clutch his chest and nearly fall over. "I just didn't want to say anything because... Well, I was unsure because you seem to be like this around everyone, and—"

"No! I'm glad that... That you like me too... And I was wondering..." Wooyoung started mumbling again, his nerves taking over once more despite knowing that his feelings were mutual.

"Here's my phone. Give me your number," you stepped in again, making him wonder if you were reading his mind or if he was talking loud enough under his breath or if you were his freaking soulmate.

Wooyoung's fingers trembled as he typed in his phone number and handed your phone back to you.

"I'll text you," you said, that beautiful smile of yours only getting bigger, your face only getting more sparkly. "Maybe you'll find better words over text."

God, Wooyoung was ready to fall over when you giggled and waved good bye to him, the lovestruck boy motionless in the classroom as he watched the actual love of his life glide out of the room.

"I'm so in love! I love love!"

flower garden masterlist

flower garden taglist: @eyeryis @sinnarols @k-hotchoisan @khjoongie98

networks: @atzhouse @cromernet @cultofdionysusnet @newworldnet @wonderlandnet

[kosije]

a/n: if i told you this had been sitting in my drafts for over half a year would you believe me?

cw: afab fem reader, arguing (not in detail), baby angst, horrible attempt at writing accented dialog (atsumu I'm so sorry), fingering (f! receiving), head (f! receiving), possible part two (probs not)

The argument started as a joke. At least, that’s all it was to Atsumu. He didn’t even mean to catch you in a bad mood. You started squinting at him and making him feel stupid, and he got much more passionate and vindictive. It was only a matter of time before his smart mouth said something inappropriate, and now your eyes read something other than anger. You're hurt.

He thought it was just a rise of emotions and didn’t matter to either of you, but after he came back from training only to get the silent treatment every time he tried to talk to you. He won't lie—he started to sweat. His pride held him back from apologizing first. After seeing you turn away from him, he decided to just wait till the morning for you to come around.

Sure, when you rejected to eat the dinner he prepared, he felt troubled, but he can always pack it up for your lunch tomorrow. So what if the shock of you turning your back to him in bed and scooting as far as you could get away from him made his chest hurt? It was too hot to cuddle, anyway.

It wasn’t until the third day you left to work without a word or glance at him he felt his pride collapse. He was spiraling. It's bad enough that he hasn't apologized yet, but what if...? You're not thinking about... leaving, right? Shakey tan hands finding his phone and calling you after going the whole three days without hearing your voice unless it was to address someone other than him. He knows you get off in 2 hours, but he can’t help his worry.

It’s not only until his call gets declined does he nearly faints. It’s all too much. He starts desperately replaying the situation in his head. You really had only been looking out for him when you told him you didn't want him to practice until so late. But he just had to not listen and turn it back on you, huh? Just listen. That was it. The rift between you now was all because he was being too immature. If he had known this would have- no, that's not the point. He shouldn't have either way. You know that, don't you? 

Like a blessing, he hears the door click and watches you push past it. Your head is hung, and your purse and coat hit the floor in a phut before you kick your heels off away from the walkway. You're tired. When your eyes meet, they're cold as steel before widening in shock.

“Y/n...”

He wasn’t crying, but he could feel the blood rush to his face and his breathing deepen. Before he can spill his guts out to you, you pull him in for a hug.

Now he’s really crying.

You say nothing as you hold him, just rub his back softly and let him cry into your shoulder. Even in your exhaustion, knee-jerk is to take care of him. He really must be pathetic.

He leans into your touch as you wipe his tears away, letting him hold your wrist to his lips as he peppers kisses all along your palm.

“‘M so so sorry, love. Was so scared ya would neva talk t'me again.” His accent is much thicker than usual, and he feels so overwhelmed his head crashes down on your shoulder.

“I deserved it all. It’s all my fault.'m so sorry, y/n. Please don’t leave me. I’ll be so much better ‘nd I’ll never do that again. I was jus- it doesn't matter why, it was stupid. I should've never said that.”

“Hey," You don't sound demeaning, but your voice is firm and he can tell what you mean by it, so he brings his head from your shoulder to look you in your eyes. "I'm sorry for making you feel stupid. I should've talked to you after you got settled in, and not immediately after getting home. But never, should you ever, talk to me like that. I'd never leave you for this. I love you far too much. But I also love sleeping next to my boyfriend at a reasonable hour. I love you, Tsumu, okay? That hasn't changed. I promise.”

He nods in your hands before resting his forehead on yours.

“Can I kiss ya?”

Instead of answering, you kiss him first, and he's sighing into it. Short pecks turn more passionate and drawn out. Lashes flutter shut, and he savors the taste of coffee and vanilla chapstick he gets when his tongue slipped inside. As his hands maunder your body and find your hips, he needs you closer. He grabs under your thighs and you jump to wrap your legs around his waist as the kisses turn into a make-out session. You help him take off his tee shirt, letting out a shaky breath when he sucks on your neck, walking to your bedroom. 

“Fuck baby- lemme, make it up t'ya. Let me make ya feel good. Lemme show ya how much I’ve missed ya”

His chest is heavy and the bulge in his pants is more than apparent through his sweatpants. You look up at him doe-eyed and nod, and he has to bite his lip to keep the moan threatening to tumble out at bay. It’s not until you’re only in your underwear that he pauses. Letting his calloused finger rub up and down your slit, he swallows your strained moans with his tongue down your throat. You impatiently paw at his shoulders, and without asking, he moves your panties to the side and slips his finger inside. His mouth moves down to your thighs as his finger slowly moves in and out of you before adding a second, and you’re already whining for more. He kisses the fat of your thigh once more before pecking, then sucking and licking your clit while a third finger bullies your cunt.

Your hands move to his hair and you rock your hips against his face as you chase your release. The sensation stings his scalp, but he can’t bring himself to stop. Not when you taste so good. Not when he’s been missing and dreaming about your cunt ever since you’ve turned your back on him.

“F-fuck-Fuck ‘Tsumu, I’m gonna cum!”

Your cries run straight to his dick as he ruts his clothed cock into the bedsheets while eating you out. You cry out as your orgasm rushes over you, as your heels dig into his lower back. He greedily laps up everything you let out while bathing in all the praises that fall from your swollen lips. He lets you ride out your orgasm on his lips, then kisses you back up to your chin.

"Did ya like that?"

"Yes," and the breathless way that you say it makes him smile.

"Good, 'cuz I have somethin' even better fer ya."

[oddinary4bts]

Hello! I hope you're doing well:)

I've read some comments and this isn't an ask but they're being too harsh on jk for no reason lol

He didn't do anything wrong. He is NOT required to stay loyal when they were never even together. And I'm sorry no hate to anyone really but some of these people are actually either children or they're just kinda immature cause no way they're taking this as cheating 😭

Oc and jk are not and never were together officially. I understand they love each other but they choose to not stay together so regardless of their feelings they willingly both choose to not fight for each other and leave things as it was. It was a good and very OKAY thing for jk to do. Sleeping with other people when you're stressed is such a common thing to do as an adult, in fact I'm glad jk isn't completely stuck and I hope he knows he isn't in the wrong.

I also saw people saying that "just because its not wrong, it doesn't mean it's right". I don't think that fits in this situation. Cause his actions were not in any way bad. He's obviously guilty cause oc saw and knows that he slept with their mutual friend. He loves oc and it's not an ideal situation that he would've wanted to be in so it's understandable it pained him and it's 100% normal to feel guilty and I'd be surprised if he wouldn't be. But he did not do an unforgivable mistake like people are making it seem to be. It was very much okay for a grown man to try and move on from a situation in a healthy way rather than cry over oc for the rest of his life.

And to be fair oc came outta nowhere bru 😭 girl really just showed up after months and expected their situation to be completely fine after breaking things off, not trusting him like he asked and even after reading his letter, she did not contact him. like no??? This is both of their fault that they ended up there but jk is being blamed for the whole thing as if poor guy isn't on the verge of jumping off a building already LMAO and I hope oc won't feel like jk did something super wrong cause she has no say in what he does while they weren't together.

However I do partly understand others points that "How could he touch another woman after what oc and him went through" But regardless of his feelings towards oc, that doesn't mean he can't try to move on or sleep with someone else. So what's the problem? Did people genuinely expect him to rot in his room without thinking about another woman just cause of oc? He's a human being that once in a while of course needs affection and in fact I think it's much more healthy than staying by himself all day and crying about the situation forever yk?

Sorry I did not mean to make it thing long, I could talk about this for ages but I just thought I'd let you know I understand how you're thinking. Cause all I've been seeing is mostly everyone thinking what he did was all wrong and he shouldn't be forgiven, and why would he sleep with someone else when theres oc. when in reality they are literally not together and hasn't been for months. He did nothing wrong by sleeping with Lisa, it's not his fault that oc randomly decided to come back right on the day he was with someone else. I don't see a problem with jks actions at all.

SAY IT LOUDER FOR THE PEOPLE IN THE BACK📢

[hazbinned]

Kinda random, but ... I came up with a Trolley Problem scenario for Valentino, and since you're my favourite Val writer (especially when you're interacting with angie-long-legs), I'd be interested to hear your thoughts.

Basically, a runaway train is barrelling towards Vox, who's tied to the tracks. The front of the train is covered in angelic steel spikes, so if the train hits Vox, it will kill him.

Val is next to a lever. He can save Vox by pulling the lever, which will direct the train onto another track.

However, if he does that, the train will hit and kill Angel Dust, who's tied to the other track.

What do you think Val would do? Would he pull the lever and kill Angel, or would he not pull the lever and let Vox die?

Val was offended, and the look on his face as he peered over his shoulder could not have made that more glaring.

"How is that even a question? I would save Vox."

~

FIRST— THANK YOU VERY MUCH! There are so many excellent Vals in this community, so the fact that I am someone's favorite totally makes my day! I always feel flattered when you like our posts.

Second— this is actually kind of funny, because @angie-long-legs and I were joking that (my) Charlie would make a funny video like this about the Trolley Problem to show to the sinners in one of her redemption lessons, where she would be all the actors and all the sinners would find it so stupid hahaha.

THIRD— A giant meta on my Val and Vox, and Val's attitude toward Angel. Content warning for talk of toxic relationships and explaining things from Val's point of view (not justifying anything from an OOC perspective, but getting into Val's head and sharing how he sees things, and his intentions behind his actions.)

Valentino's relationship with Vox is an interesting one. The two of them have been in each others' lives for at least forty years, and have been living together for at least thirty, having a complicated on/off relationship all the while. Valentino is a terrible person by every stretch of the imagination, but has his soft spots when it comes to certain people (like Vox, Velvette, and, sometimes, Angel). He is cunning but incredibly emotionally immature, as he has never faced lasting consequences to his actions, resulting in this deeply-ingrained worldview of "my point of view is the only correct one, if anyone does anything I dislike, they are wrong, I am in the right. I deserve to do whatever I want because by not doing what I want them to, THEY are hurting ME." He struggles to see others' perspectives unless he can project HIMSELF into the situation, and often refuses to do that— the reason I'm saying this is because, while Valentino has chosen Angel over Vox before, and has hurt both Angel and Vox in various ways, Valentino does NOT love Angel, but he DOES love Vox.

This is the problem. There's that saying, "we always hurt the ones we love": Valentino is so used to Vox that he thinks he can get away with anything. On the surface, he is bored of Vox; Vox is older (fifties), and is not as good in bed as Angel. Vox is more closed-off, he has more boundaries (which Val actually respects, because he cares about him), and he doesn't always want to be going out and partying. Physically, too, Val is more attracted to Angel than he is to Vox. This 'boredom' comes out in Val's attempts to 'make Vox jealous' by bringing Angel (and other sinners) home with him (aka cheating-- Vox is fine with him sleeping around *outside* of the Penthouse, but not at home), by being dismissive of Vox, by not taking into consideration how upset this makes Vox (aside from being amused by it and thinking it's working)— this is all extremely toxic, inexcusable behavior on Val's part, but from his perspective, he is not doing it to hurt Vox. He doesn't know how much of a big deal it is to Vox; what is to Valentino just Vox expressing a funny/cute expression of jealousy is, on Vox's end, the extremely frustrating and distressing feeling of being cast aside once again. Val knows what Vox means to him, and that he'd never replace Vox, so it isn't a big deal for him. He knows from their history that Vox wouldn't permanently leave, so he isn't scared of losing him. Vox doesn't know that Val feels that way about him, so he's constantly battling the insecurity of wondering if he is just another game to Valentino.

When Valentino attacks Angel, he is intentionally trying to instill fear in him and break him down. Often, it's premeditated. He enjoys seeing Angel get hurt; he gets a power trip out of it. On the rare occasion that Valentino gets physical with Vox, it is an unplanned, spur-of-the-moment emotional outburst, usually when the two of them are having a disagreement. He becomes consumed by his emotions and allows them to get the better of him. This is not an excuse, it is just a reason-- Valentino does not enjoy hurting Vox and does not go out of his way to do so. Once he gets off his high horse and realizes what he's done (usually after a few days of Vox ignoring him) he comes back around with gifts and acts of kindness and occasionally a poorly-executed (and still often self-victimizing) "sorry." The difference here compared to when he love-bombs Angel is that with Angel, it's a manipulation tactic to win him back over. With Vox, he's feeling genuine guilt and has trouble addressing it in a mature manner, so he just goes with the gifts and hopes for the best.

Another issue is that there is some cognitive dissonance in how Val views Vox— Vox's head is a TV and can be repaired quickly and effectively, leaving no evidence that he was ever injured to begin with. There is a part of Val that doesn't realize the severity of hitting Vox. He thinks, "oh, it's just his screen! It's not a big deal. He can fix it!", even though it is a big deal. It still hurts. The only difference between Vox's screen getting broken and someone else getting a black eye is that the repairs act as a magic 'undo' button of sorts.

Val usually storms off right after this happens and then assumes things are back to normal and will be annoyed if Vox has not gotten over it because it "come on, Vox, it happened thirty minutes ago!" — he does not understand what a big deal it actually is to Vox, as Vox has this obsession with seeming strong and unbothered and always makes sure to remove himself from where he can be seen (and if he cries, he cries in private.) He's always telling Val "I'm fine, it's not a big deal" and has even lied about not being able to feel in his screen. Vox is deeply and obsessively in love with Val, and these incidents don't happen often enough for him to feel constantly on edge or threatened (in fact, they are so rare that he gets rattled when they DO happen), which is why he stays. If this was the norm, he would have left a long time ago. Vox would not put up with frequent abuse. My Vox also had a wife, Margaret, back in the fifties, where the roles were pretty much reversed, minus any actual love between them. Vox just kind of thinks 'this is how couples are' and puts up with it. It is not Vox's fault that any of this is happening, but Valentino IS ignorant to the extent of the pain he is causing. If he saw Vox crying or was otherwise faced with the knowledge of the true effect of his actions on Vox, he would feel horrible. His reaction would probably still be self-victimizing ("I'm sorry! Why didn't you let me know?!") because that is Val's natural response to having his defenses up, but, this aside, he does love Vox and wants to see him thrive.

When it comes to Angel, Valentino only loves Angel for his body and what he can 'use' Angel for. He loves OWNING Angel, whereas he loves Vox as a person, views him as an equal, and likes him for non-superficial reasons. There is definite toxicity within his relationship with Vox, and most of it is caused by Val (although Vox is no saint and has absolutely been the one to start things too), but Valentino would put in genuine effort to make the relationship healthy if his actions were brought to light. He WANTS his relationship with Vox to be healthy, and currently thinks it is. (Val, like Angel, has no idea what a healthy relationship looks like, but that is a whole OTHER thing.) 'Ignorance is bliss,' and he's ignorant right now. When he stops being ignorant, he's going to make a mad scramble to fix all that he's done and make it up to Vox, even if he still stumbles sometimes. There is no fixing what he has with Angel, but he's one wake-up call away from fixing what he has with Vox.

That gets into Val's relationship with Angel: Val does not love him, as stated earlier, but he is attached. He and Angel have this sickly attachment to each other, Angel literally being addicted, but also having been manipulated into thinking Val loved him at one point, while Val bounces between hating Angel, being neutral about him, and somewhat seeing him as a friend and being affectionate toward him. If he pushes the line too far, he has rare moments where he projects his younger self onto Angel and feels bad-- not necessarily because he's hurting Angel, but because he remembers how he felt when that was him. And as soon as the feeling wears off, he goes back to his old ways.

Val and Vox are primarily healthy with a track record of occasional relationship-ruining incidents sprinkled throughout, while Val and Angel are primarily unhealthy with some occasional good moments thrown in here and there. Val is not ignorant to how he makes Angel feel, and would (unless under extreme duress) not work to improve it, even though he thinks Angel is more 'fun' than Vox when it comes to certain things.

This being said, if there was some kind of loophole to the trolley problem, he would find it and save them both. Most likely, he would just derail the trolley, because he doesn't care about anyone in there and if they died it wouldn't be permanent, since the angelic steel is only on the outside. Even if it WOULD be permanent, he wouldn't care unless Velvette was in there. But in a case of pure black and white, save one or the other? He'd save Vox, without hesitation.

{ divider credit. }

[system-of-a-feather]

Riku's clowning over the fact that despite me being the largest NPD/ASPD trait havers in the system, that I am also the most """charity""" motivated - and I put that in big """ """" cause I really hate calling it that and framing it as that - cause everyones like "People with NPD / ASPD are inherently EVIL and inherently abusers yee haw oui oui I'm so special I have empathy"

And I'm gonna try to exercise some cognitive empathy and assume the reason empathy-havers are like that is because (in my experience and opinion who has felt guilt and remorse like, once or twice and never want to again) empathy is a fucking curse and horrible thing to feel and experience. Its such a negative motivator to do things and its very good at making people feel so bad that they feel the need to "do something good" to relieve the tension and misery that having empathy is. So I don't think its to much of a stretch that people with empathy and "eMpAThS" are so used to having their empathy holding them at fucking gun point 24/7 that they don't understand that you don't NEED to feel like shit to see that shits flawed and stupidly broken for literally no reason.

Like I have very very very low empathy - may that be due to autism, trauma, or whatever, I literally could count the times Ive experienced what I think is empathy on one hand (albeit I do have memory issues so do with that what you will) and the reason I try to help people and donate shit is the same reason I literally do all my shit - positive or not - and its simply cause I don't see a good answer to "why not", "why shouldn't I"

Like back when I was younger and a lot more immature and in the depths of trauma, yeah I never would have because my question was "why SHOULD I do anything nice for anyone" and I'd look at people struggling and go "lol you just suck get good at life why are you struggling lol you and your stupid decisions and shut the fuck up your whining is annoying"

But like, you grow the fuck up and you actually see how shit in the world works and that question of "why are you struggling get good mate and shut the fuck up your whining is annoying" gets answered with a "yeah life sucks people are corrupt the system is broken and they've been trapped in a quicksand pit of poverty so the rich can get richer and the poor can get poorer"

Which then, with my chronic "why are you whining do something about it or shut the fuck up" ass to better or worse I go "okay then why are they having to whine, feed them so they can shut the fuck up" cause like, so much fucking food is thrown away from every household of people who buy too much and don't eat it or buy food that they find out they dont like

So like why the fuck aren't we putting 5 minutes out of our day when we clean out our fridges to bring it to the local homeless person / family / impoverished individual who has to beg for survival shit to get them through the day?

Like literally Why Not?

And like I think a lot of other NPD/ASPD havers are sometimes caught up in the fact that being angry, mad, dominant, and "uncaring" is this huge defense mechanism and crap to make them feel secure - at least to some level - and so the thought that being """charitable""" sounds anti-intuitive to their sense of self, but like, whats edgier and more anti-systemic anti-societal normas anti-capitalist and ""punk"" than looking at the stupid shit we're conditioned to and being secure enough in your life, identity, and ability to care for yourself that you can casually help someone struggling

Like empathy havers are like "UWU IF YOU DONT FEEL BAD FOR THEM YOUD NEVER DO ANYTHING NICE" like

No like, its just fucking STUPID to not. It's inefficient. Like I'm not gonna act like I don't care about helping out cause like I'm not a fraud and yeah, giving someone something nice is a small pat on the back - but largely for me its literally just a matter of WHY NOT.

Like WHY. What reason is there to NOT do it? Like completely valid if you don't have the money, spoons, physical ability and all to do it - this is not a matter of "give out more than you can" but a comment on "if you HAVE excess and more than you need and more than you can use why NOT give it out to some who will use it"

It literally just does not make sense on a completely and purely logic / rational basis. If you are going to let your shit sit, rot, and join a trash pile in the middle of the Atlantic, why not give it to someone who could use it - let their day and maybe multiple days be good for a bit, give them less of a need to work hard and sit baking out in the sun and lessen the amount of waste and garbage polluting the earth.

Like I don't fucking need empathy for this to be so frustratingly stupid to see being a "norm" in the world where people just DONT. I don't need someone putting a fucking emotional gun to my head to be motivated to do something that just makes basic fucking common sense and I don't need to be baited with intense feel good dopamine to do it.

Like Imma be fucking Ben Shapiro here and come on guys its fucking FACTS and LOGIC, it doesn't have to be this whole uwu empathy uwu think of the children uwu shit. It can literally be "this is a broken system and it just fucking pisses me off so to be a little less pissed off at how stupid and irrational the system is I do what people SHOULD be doing because I CAN and why the FUCK would I perpetuate the stupid normalized ideas that are FUCKING STUPID."

Ugh. Jesus fucking christ I hate America and Capitalism and just this stupid fucking country honest to god. I don't know if its as bad elsewhere (probably) but jesus christ.

-XIV

[a-vague-recollection]

Hello there. How's life treating you these days?

I was down a few days ago. The usual I suppose. But this chat I had with a friend two years ago came to mind and I decided to scroll those messages. Both of us, at the time, had a similar kind of hurting or pain. We were scratched by the same thorns, so to say. And despite us being 'just-good-friends' through out school, latched together to lament on this common pain. It certainly helped me. Just ranting stuff on her chat and she'd reply when she found the time to do so. And that's how it was. We did that for a few months. I would be the person to lift her up if she felt down and she'd be the one doing that when I'd feel like throwing myself into water. Don't get me wrong, I've never been suicidal, and I'm grateful for that. Just that sometimes one would want to bury themselves under water. Sometimes you crave for breathlessness because life's hitting you all at once and you feel like you don't have a chance so you kinda wish for it to come for you all together. All at once. So you may rise again and gasp for air. Breathe new again. And be granted a second chance. The whole thing was nice. To vomit feelings in its truest forms because she wouldn't cringe. She wouldn't think I was being emotional or immature. It was nice. I hope she felt that too. But reading those text messages then has not only made me reminisce the friendship I had but also allowed me to see myself in a different light. I was a bit more braver then. At 18, I was a bit more hopeful. I could let my tongue slip and say words of compassion and encouragement without the fear of being judged. I could venture out for long lost friends and start talking to them just because I wanted to talk. The thoughts of whether I'm the one who messages first or am I being a nuisance or do they think I'm kinda stupid or silly to want to build this friendship even though there's no reason for it now. We're no longer in the same class or school. Don't have mutual friends. Didn't really meet anywhere recently. Why is she forging this now? Those thoughts seemed to always escape me. I'm genuinely interested in this person, who cares about the rest anyways? But unfortunately, these thoughts never seem to leave me now. The 'what would they think?' has made me backspace a lot of paragraph messages on how I had a dream of them last night, or I saw this thing on TV and it reminded me of that time, or how I think they're wonderful for this reason, or how I'm just really happy to have had a friend like them, or how I'm randomly reminded of that one time they did this. O r how they weren't supposed to have done that. Anyways, as you can see I'm reminded of people a lot. I bet others are too. And it's sad that they will never know because I got scared. anxious. For no reason at all. So, now I'm kinda making it a point to sent these random reminders I have of these people, if I get bothered for more than 10 minutes. Yeah kinda long but I overthink so yeah. I would love to receive a random paragraph long text from any friend. Whether its about me or their day or anything at all wouldn't matter. The fact that they thought of me would be enough to warm my heart. So why not do the same? As that one Barbie song, "

Sometimes when you need a friend, just need to be a friend. Gotta spin the whole picture around You need to share your light, help someone learn to fly..." So there's that. And oh, about that chat I had with her. We haven't texted since last summer. Life's been good ig. I hope it has been for her as well. Thanks for reading till the end. Share you're thoughts please. I'd love to know. Yours Truly, X

[villainsandvictimsalliance]

I really think people that want Endeavor to die have an immature view on the situation. I understand that enji did terrible stuff but he has to pay for that. But how is he gonna pay for everything if he dies? Gonna waste Todoroki fam money on flowers for his grave?😭 Anyway. There is no situation where enji dying is a good writing. And if he lives he can still be useful as an old hag mentor like allmight, not only sit and suffer. Fans that want endeavor dead have that childish thought that person that they dislike should just die. Right now endeavor is being a good character after pussying out for villain hunt arc and I think it's great. We've seen him at his weakest most pathetic spot so when he drags afo's crusty ass through mountains and does badass stuff with fire we can have that feeling of happiness (I mean I did idk what others feel tho lmao).

I hope endeavor meets touya again and continues to help his family to have better lives and leave as he wanted in his dream

Okay, let me point out first where I don't agree with you and then where do I agree with you, okay?

First thing, I can't call immature the people who want Enji dead. I don't know what they have gone through, I can't know if they find in it a way of deal with their anger and trauma, I don't know. I talk a lot but at the end of the day, wanting a fictional character dead is not murdering a real person, you know?

They can hate Enji all they want.

I just disagree with them. If we speak in terms of narrative, Enji being alive is better for the story. If we talk about a projection from the real life into the situation, Enji dying could be equal parts the remedy and the poison. Maybe some of the Todorokis would heal after that, it is a possibility. Maybe they wouldn't. Maybe they could get worst, we don't know. Ultimately this all depends on what story Horikoshi wants to tell, but I'd rather have the current story where different victims have different responses to the abuse they were exposed to and they have different ways of healing. Dabi has the right to never again see Enji, but Fuyumi also has the right to build a relationship with her father, if she wants to.

Now, I agree Enji is a better person than he was. Not because he's good exactly, but because he recognized how bad he was and he's at least thinking about how he can fix what he broke. It's undeniable that he is on a redemption arc, it's undeniable that he is better, but it doesn't mean either us or the characters have to forgive him or forget his mistakes.

Enji has also always been a good character in terms of what he brings to the table with his character construction. Not good in moral terms, but written interestingly. His constant dancing between the villain and hero standards, how morally gray he is, that's amazing. A great way of making someone root for a certain character is giving them a character to root against. It happened with Deku and Bakugo at the beginning, for example. Not necessarily a villain, but an antagonist, someone who gets in the way of your hero.

I'm not particularly rooting for Enji to get better because of him, but because it'd serve the Todorokis narrative. Shouto doesn't need his dad to die at war. Touya hasn't solved his issues with Enji. And I mean, Enji was never there for Touya, so he should be there for his son now. Even if Touya tells him to go away and doesn't want to see him ever again, Enji has to try. For all the people who looked up to him, for all the people he let down, he has to try.

I wish the Todorokis to be happty and healthy. I want Endeavor to pay for his crimes. So if he changes and some part of the family accepts him back, as long as he's not causing more damage and as long as it is actually healing instead of hurting, I'll accept it.

That's my opinion on this matter.

[gildedmuse]

Hey, everyone.

So recently I've (predictably) very not well. Actually, whenever I don't post for long periods, just assume my body is trying to kill me. But I've gotten messages from three people asking if I. Okay, which is super sweet. I am actually trying to work on the next All Hearts, a really long ZoLaw post and two request fics, but mixing chronic kidney pain and capitalist society's mandate to work 40+ hours is not recommended.

But to prove I'm okay and still me, here is some Shanks antics with him being a total slut while Mihawk and Beckman just roll their eyes and go along with it. [Shout out to @jhaernyl who not only listens to me ramble about this stuff, but actively encourages it]. I also have many thoughts on the latest episodes and so many screenshots it's embarrassing. Hopefully, when I'm in less pain, I'll get around to actually posting those. Otherwise I just look like an insane person who literally takes by the second frame shots every time Zoro is on screen.

.... What is that? I look like that anyway? Fair.

Shanks Is A Bad Influence

It feels like Buggy and Shanks split up after Roger's death (the crew was told to, and they are the only ones who went to his execution) and I find it impossible to think Shanks didn't immediately set out and find a crew; like, pirating is the only thing this kid knows in life. This means two things:

He set out from East Blue. Also, he seemed at ease and familiar with the East so it's possible he spent like a year there getting everything together. Maybe he even played around in the other blues for a while before heading back to the Grand Line. I say this because his crew is from all over so either he found and recruited them in the Grand Line or visited various blues. Either way, I'm gonna say it took him about two years before getting a 'proper' start. In that case, he would have started out properly at the age of 17 and we know One Piece likes it's parallels.

That still puts Shanks at 17 to Benn Beckmen's 28. How the fuck did Shanks manage that? I'd call it grave robbing, but let's face it, the little tyke probably got up to some actual robbing of graves as well.

My point being everytime Shanks teases Mihawk about keeping this 19 year old kid on his personal island, mostly shirtless, Benn Beckmen just lifts an eyebrow.

Excuse me, captain, who had prefected the 'opps still don't have my sea legs' trip-and-fall into their first mates lap by the age of 17?

Shanks: Beckmen, you caught me! *Shamelessly nuzzles up* Thank goodness! I could be a devil's fruit user after all and - Ahh!

Benn: *Drops Shanks straight over the side of the ship into the water*

Shanks: *Sputtering* What what that!?

Benn: Checking to see if you had eaten a devil's fruit on us, Capatin.

Benn: You didn't.

Smart ass. But he can't resist Shanks forever. Shanks will wear him down eventually.

Next time Mihawk tracks him down for another match - because you know he gets bored way quicker than he'll ever admit and Shanks is at least amusing a challenge - Shanks makes a big deal out of how Mihawk follows him around, "accidentally" revealing they slept together, sighing about how it's so hard to resist him.

Benn Beckmen is just leaning against the side of the ship, sipping his booze.

Shanks: -and I can't stay for hours like last time!!

Mihawk: Are you quite done?

Shanks: *whispering* Does Benn look jealous?

Mihawk: He looks bored. Much like I am. Is this some strange attempt to get out of my challenge, Akagami?

Shanks: What? No, come on I told you I was game. But, hey, could you do me a favor? Maybe like try and kiss me or something? Like take a swing like your going to hit me but then stop shot and grab me by the waist instead.

Mihawk: .... Trickery is beneath you. Besides, you're absolute rubbish at it.

Shanks: Oh, come on, I would totally help you get laid if you asked!

Mihawk: .... *Sigh* I want a proper match afterwards.

Mihawk: *In a forced, monotone voice* After this I will take you to my lair and have my way with you, Akagami.

Mihawk: ... My lair? Really?

Shanks: *Holding up cue card with quickly scribbled line* What? That is how you talk.

Mihawk: I can't believe I wasted precious hours of light tracking you to this atrociously rural port.

Shanks: See? Now, read the next one.

Benn: Captain? If this is going to take all night, I am going to go join the rest of the men in the tavern.

Shanks: Huh? Wait! Benn! What if Miha really stabs me this time!?

Benn: *Salutes Shanks with his bottle* Sounds like that is his plan captain. Have a good 'challenge'.

Shanks: What? No... *Reaching out hand, like he might die if Benn leaves, looking completely devastated* Not even a little jealous...

Mihawk: You couldn't have thought that pantomime would actually work.

Shanks: Benny, don't leave me.... *Turns to Mihawk, immediately brightening* Oh, well, there's always tomorrow. Hey, Miha, guess whose free all night and horny as a pirate in the calm belt?

Mihawk: .... *Sigh* Very well.

Mihawk might as well get something for the trip he made. Although, he's reconsidering if the sex was actually worth the trouble after he ends up listening to Shanks worry half the night that Benn is shacking up with someone else (after a couple hours of rough and raw fucking, admittedly).

Is it the hat? He likes his captain's hat. Miha, you think his captain's hat is sexy, don't you?

Mihawk: It's utterly ridiculous.

Shanks: ....

Shanks: ....

Shanks: *Smile* Ahh, Miha, I knew you liked the hat!

Shanks: What do you old Northerns find sexy?

Mihawk: I am only four years older than you.

Mihawk: And silence.

Trying to convince Mihawk to go spy on Beckman for him. Shanks doesn't actually care if he does sleep with someone else, it's more that Beckman didn't immediately turn angry and jealous like Buggy would have that has him paranoid.

Mihawk is going to fuck this annoying red head again just to shut him up.

Mihawk: Maybe he doesn't like red haired boys who don't know when to be quiet?

The next morning Shanks is pacing among his poor crew that's gotten stuck listening to Shanks obsess about Beckman again. IS IT REALLY THE HAIR!?

It's not even a matter of Shanks's age (or obvious immaturity). I mean, Beckman got on board and stayed, didn't he? Beckman just enjoys watching Shanks try so hard to get his attention. Like Benn's attention isn't constantly on Shanks. He had to when his captain is always one step away from disaster.

He only left him with Mihawk because it was clear Dracule is not a real danger to Beckman's captain.

Except maybe insulting him to death. But Beckman is pretty sure Shanks can handle it. He's met Buggy. He's suspects Shanks LIKES it if anything.

It gets to the point where when they dock somewhere and see Mihawk waiting, or come back to the ship and spot his familiar silhouette, most of the crew goes off somewhere for another drink (sometimes the newer kids will stay to watch such an awesome fight, everyone else is like... Look, you'll have plenty of opportunities later. This is not a one off.)

Benn just takes a look around, nods to Mihawk (a silent signal for, "he's all yours, do with him as you please, if anything happens to him I will track you down and make sure your last few hours on this blue world are as painful as humanly possible") and heads off.

Oh, it's just the Hawk boy.

That's fine then.

Benn use to be a sailor on a trade ship between the North, East, West and Grand Line. He's seen it all.

They called him The Gun Slinger BEFORE he joined Shanks's crew and became a pirate.

So this young, broke ass kid from the streets of some near artic northern island trying to pass himself off as a Lower North rich type has a thing for his captain? Not really enough to keep Beckman up at night, no matter how good at swords he's supposed to be

Besides, he's pretty sure for the kid to keep tracking down Shanks, he must be bored out of his skull. He's not going to do anything to endanger their captain.

Not if Shanks is the only thing he can find to keep him entertained.

One day, Mihawk is going to be waiting on the dock when a bunch of Red Haired pirates are stumbling home, laughing and chattering amongst themselves (Shanks's crew always seems to be in a good mood). One of them will catch sight if Mihawk and walk by with a smile, patting him on the shoulder.

The captain's occupied. Seems likely he'll be 'occupied' for a good while, too.

Mihawk won't smile, but he will think "So you finally warmed him up to you, Akagami?" and snort lightly.

Poor Benn, though. Mihawk could never imagine being with someone so much younger than him. Shanks is only four years his junior and already it strains Mihawk to put up with his occasional moments of "youthful whimsy" (aka being an annoying, immature child)

"A young, cocky pirate with strangely colored bright hair"

Mihawk just putting that on his Not To Do List.

That lasted until Roronoa.

(Mihawk just looking at Zoro knowing this is bad news.)

Mihawk: *Takes list from Benn*

*Cross out, scribbles*

*Hands back to Benn*

Do Not Do:

- A young, cocky pirate with strangely colored bright hair a silly hat, who is overly dramatic and in any way, shape or form related to Gol D Rogers.

Ace: Hey what's up?

Mihawk: *Takes list from Benn*

Go ahead, Benn, laugh it up. Mihawk is aware he has a type. Young, pretty, and utterly insane.

After that night where Shanks was otherwise 'occupied', it's over six months before Mihawk sees his friend his rival again. He is, as expected, far too smug and proud looking.

Shanks: Oh, Miha, so sorry you came all this way, I'm-

Benn: Well, I'm off, captain.

Shanks: What!? But we, you, I... Benn, hessoeexyarentyouworriedforyourcaptain?

Benn: *patting Mihawk on the shoulder* Have fun with him. Don't forget to return him by noon tomorrow, we have a schedule. Oh, but if you can babysit him for at least four hours? That would be great.

Shanks: BABYSIT!?

Mihawk: I suppose I can be troubled to do so.

Shanks: TROUBLED!?

Benn: Thanks, Hawkeyes. I owe you.

Shanks: *Fake tears clinging to his lashes* You two are so mean!

No, don't feel bad for him. Shanks is just trying to guilt the two of them into bed at the same time, and they both know it.

Thanks no thanks, they're not into that. But Shanks can be pretty cute when he's trying so hard (Benn) and at least he's not as boring as everything else in this world (Mihawk) so they allow him to keep up the act

Shanks: *looking at Zoro's wanted poster over Mihawk's shoulder* But I feel like you'd gladly go to bed with him and his captain if he asked. That doesn't seem fair to me. You'd never go that far with me and Benn.

Mihawk: *Eyes Benn*

Mihawk: *DEAD. ONLY.*

Mihawk: I have my reasons.

They can and do agree on plenty of things, including reciprocally not being that attracted to each other.

Shanks: Sounds fake to me

Shanks: But guys!

Shanks: This isn't about you

He's gonna need you guys to drop the egos and focus on what HE wants. I.E., being in the middle of two sexy Northern men.

Honestly, so mean to poor Shanks!

[rhysismydaddy]

Prisoner's Game Pt. 2 (Rowaelin)

Part 1

~Rowan~

Rowan didn't think he'd ever been so pissed off in his life.

The only time that even came close was when he lost his first and only court case, but over the years he'd come to live with that.

This though?

This immature, childish, irritatingly clever woman... he had a feeling he'd carry the rage he felt against her until the day he finally died of it.

Although, if he was honest, his returning move had been a little childish, too.

He'd ordered one of the guards to strip her cell of everything except the chess set. Her mattress, the makeshift knife he shuddered to think she'd had in the same room as him, her pillow.

If she wanted to steal his shit, he'd steal hers, too.

He'd also had the guard move one of his pawns forward on the board.

Not the most creative, but he didn't have many options.

What did you take from a woman who had nothing? How did you punish someone who was already serving the longest punishment available?

The bank had seized her assets when she'd been locked up, and the lease on her apartment had long since run out. She didn't have any personal items with her, didn't seem to even care about anything besides making his life hell.

Case in point, when he got home that night, exhausted from dealing with Aelin and spending a long day at the office, he'd discovered her retaliation.

She'd stolen his bed.

The whole goddamn thing, frame and all.

How she'd managed to get it out of a penthouse condo with security not realizing a thing, he had no idea. He knew from experience it wouldn't even fit through the door.

It'd seemed if she was going to be uncomfortable, so was he.

Steaming with anger, he'd showered and flopped on the couch like an idiot, not even able to sleep thanks to the rage she'd worked him into.

She was completely kicking his ass. From the inside of a jail cell.

He hadn't gotten more than a few hours of sleep before giving up on even trying. At six, he'd dressed and driven to Whitehorn and Salvaterre, the law firm he was a partner at.

If he couldn't sleep, he'd at least figure out how the hell she was pulling this shit off.

Looking through her folder, he went through her daily schedule, seeing nothing out of the ordinary.

Eight am wake-up, breakfast, shower, lunch, yard time, dinner, lights out at nine. Between activities, she worked out in her cell or read a book from the run-down prison library.

In the eight years she'd been in prison, she hadn't had a single visitor. Her cousin Aedion--a playboy Rowan couldn't be paid to associate with--delivered a care package on the first of every month.

Strange, considering nothing of the sort had been in her cell.

She'd been in solitary confinement ever since randomly attacking her cellmate a little over a month ago. She was still allowed yard time and meals with the other prisoners, but she was chained at all times.

Also strange, considering Aelin wasn't the type to do anything randomly.

Rowan watched the security tapes he'd strong armed the guards into giving him, going through the past few days to see how she'd gotten out of her cell to rob him.

He watched as she was escorted to the yard, watched as she ate breakfast and lunch and dinner alone, watched as she put herself through vigorous training in her cell.

Days of footage, and he didn't find anything.

Feeling like a bit of a creep, he watched the nighttime footage of her sleeping, but there was nothing out of the ordinary.

She didn't move too much or too little--both of which would indicate it wasn't really her under that thin blanket. There were no attempts to pick the locks in between her wrists and ankles, no digging into the wall behind her toilet.

Nothing.

Which meant someone was helping her.

He could go through the official channels and ask the police for her known connections, but he hadn't reported either of the robberies yet.

Partly because he wanted to deal with her himself, partly because he felt a bit stupid getting robbed from a woman in the most secure prison in the city.

Which means he'd have to go about it a different way.

Grabbing his keys from his desk, he debated how else he could make her miserable, unfortunately finding nothing else he could do to her, no revenge he could get from robbing her tiny little cell.

No, he'd have to try something new.

Maybe he could bribe her into confessing. She didn't have anything right now, but maybe he could give her something to lose.

He'd bring her lunch, force himself to apologize for yelling at her, and just politely ask who her accomplice was.

He thought on it as he rode down the elevator to the garage. It probably wouldn't work, but he didn't know what else to do.

And besides, he knew from experience Aelin didn't respond well to his anger.

Checking his email to make sure he wasn't missing any important meetings, he pressed the button on his car fob, expecting to hear the resounding beep from his designated parking spot.

Except the beep never came.

Slowly looking up, Rowan had to amend his earlier statement.

Now he didn't think he'd ever been so pissed off in his life.

He stormed over to the security booth, hardly refraining from grabbing the man inside and throwing him to the ground.

"Where's my car, Rolland?"

"In your spot, boss," the stout little man replied instantly and surely, snapping his gum and looking at him in confusion. "Haven't seen you drive out yet."

"Yes, exactly. Which is why it's a mystery why it's no longer in it's spot."

Rolland caught up slowly. "You mean... it was stolen? From here? From you?"

Jaw so tight his molars were practically fused together, Rowan growled, "Just let me see the security tapes from this morning."

The guard nodded quickly, eyes nervous as he typed something into the desktop in front of him.

"That's weird," he muttered a moment later, typing faster and sending Rowan a nervous glance.

"What?" he asked, trying to calm himself down with a few of the breathing techniques he'd learned over the years.

"The tapes are gone, but there's... this."

Rolland turned the screen so Rowan could see it, and all the breathing in the world couldn't keep him from slamming a fist into the side of the security shack.

The footage was gone, and on the blank black screen read: Bishop to J7.

He was going to fucking kill her.

~Aelin~

"Enjoy your taxi ride here?" she asked sweetly, leaning back in her chair and crossing her legs.

Rowan scowled at her as he crossed the small room inmates could use to talk to their lawyers. He yanked the chair across from her out, then threw himself into it. "You are such a pain in my ass."

She just shrugged.

He sat across from her, angry and broody, and for a long time, he just stared at her.

Finally he asked, "Why are you doing this, Aelin?"

"I told you. You locked me up for something I didn't do. I want you to be as miserable as I am. It's simple, petty revenge."

Nothing about it was simple, but that was besides the point.

He was quiet for another moment. "Why now?"

She sighed, but she wasn't upset. Truthfully, she'd been waiting for him to ask that question.

"I want to tell you a story."

He stood up suddenly, face exasperated. "I'm not fucking joking around. And I'm not going to let you waste any more of my time."

He made his way to the door, and his dismissal of her pissed her off enough to say, "Sit down, or your car's going off Whigsby Bridge."

He smiled like he'd won their little game. "So you admit you have it."

"Sure," she said casually, honestly not giving a shit about the car.

His brow furrowed. "You're giving up? Just like that?"

"You're a fucking idiot if you think this is about your car, Rowan. But sure, I admit I know exactly where it, and your bed, and your little dagger are being hidden."

He narrowed his eyes. "This conversation is being recorded, and you just admitted to being an accessory to robbery, so-"

"You aren't going to press charges," she cut him off, pulling a cigarette out of her pocket and lighting it.

Nasty little prison habit she'd developed, smoking.

Or maybe she just did it because she knew he hated the smell.

"Oh, really?" he asked incredulously, eyeing the cigarette with disdain.

She grinned. "Once you sit and hear my story and realize I'm telling the truth, you're going to feel so guilty you won't even care about the car. Now sit down. I'd hate to see a classic get totaled because you're being stubborn again."

He glared at her, but came back to the table and sat down again.

Then reached over and snatched the cigarette from her lips, putting it out against the steel table top.

She just pulled out another, lighting it with one of her last matches. The irritation on his face made it worth the loss.

He waved a hand as if to say Get on with it.

She'd debated how to tell him this story for a long time. It was long, and messy and not particularly pleasant for her. But she wanted him to know the full thing, so she'd decided to start at the very beginning.

"My parents died when I was four," she began, ignoring his dramatic sigh. "I went into foster care, and as you can imagine, I was a particularly unruly child."

She smiled at the few memories she had. "I stole from the nuns, snuck out of my room at night and ran through the house, set all the clocks back an hour so we could sleep in. Small stuff. But it irritated them, because they couldn't prove it was me."

"Sounds familiar," he grouched, making her grin.

"I was adopted by Arobynn Hamel a year later."

As she'd predicted, his mouth fell open at that.

Arobynn was the known king of the underworld in Rifthold. He had a hand in every aspect of crime, yet no one could do anything about it because he never committed the crime himself.

His name was revered, so much so no one ever dared to cross him.

"But your record says-"

"That I stayed in foster care until I turned eighteen, I know."

Arobynn hated public records and had a deal with someone in the system that he'd take some of the kids off their hands if they kept quiet about it. Illegal as hell, but he wasn't someone you refused without suffering serious consequences.

It was the perfect crime. No one would miss unwanted kids, and it gave the system one less mouth to feed.

"I didn't know it, but he'd been watching me for a while. He... I don't know, saw something in me. Natural, innocent talent he could work with and turn into something different. He adopted me on my fifth birthday. And then he started training me."

"To do what?" Rowan asked, shoulders tensing.

"Everything," she answered with a shaky laugh, taking a long drag from her cigarette. "Stuff I wanted to learn, like how to pick a lock or walk without making sound. But as I got older, he taught me other stuff. Stuff I didn't want to know."

"How to kill," he finished, picking up on her tone.

She nodded, finishing her cigarette and flicking the butt on the floor.

"I was good," she told him quietly, looking down at the table. "By the time I was fifteen, he said I was the best he'd ever had. None of his other... children could beat me in a fight, not even the older ones who had a hundred pounds on me. And I could steal anything and not leave a trace."

His eyes didn't show an ounce of doubt, and she didn't know how to feel about it. But she kept going anyway.

"I was his favorite. I was his best asset, and I didn't care about anything that would compromise me. I lost my parents, and despite how much he wanted me to, I never loved him. I had no weaknesses. Except Sam."

"Another of his students?" Rowan asked, and it wasn't lost on her he said students instead of children.

She nodded. "We were adopted around the same time, grew up together. He was a year older, and whenever I had a problem, he was the one I'd turn to. He was good to me, and by the time I was seventeen, not a small part of me loved him."

Aelin broke off and took a deep breath, wishing she had another cigarette and trying to figure out how to put into words how much he'd meant to her.

"Was?" Rowan asked, so softly and quietly and understandingly that she was reminded of the man he'd once been, the one she'd loved.

Shaking her head to clear it, she said, "He made a mistake. He went on a job; he was supposed to break into one of the underground casino's owned by Arobynn's competitor and memorize the ledger, but he got caught. It was messy and horrible and stupid, and the owner wanted blood. Arobynn promised he'd kill Sam as retribution."

Rowan's eyes widened, almost like he hadn't realized how brutally she'd been raised until that moment.

"I begged him not to. Sam had saved me and helped me so many times that I couldn't not do the same for him. I told him I'd do anything."

She studied her hands, regret and guilt thick on her skin. "Arobynn said if I took ten of the jobs Sam was supposed to do, he wouldn't kill him. I thought they'd be similar to the one he'd messed up on, small break-ins or robberies. So I accepted."

A tear rolled down her cheek, and she batted it away as she continued, "The second I shook his hand, Tern--another of Arobynn's--shot Sam in the head."

Rowan's face blanched so quickly, she thought he might pass out.

He started to say something, but she spoke faster. "I... snapped. I killed Tern, tried to kill Arobynn. You called me a murderer, and that's true. I am, and I don't regret it. Tern was a sadistic bastard, and I'm glad he's dead. And one day, I'll kill Arobynn for what he did."

Rowan shook his head, confusion and shock and something similar to pity in his eyes. "Why didn't you leave, run away?"

She leveled a look at him. "I didn't exactly have a choice, Rowan. My punishment for Tern lasted for over a year."

There was a long pause.

"Punishment?" he asked in a breathless voice that made something in her chest hurt.

She looked at the table again, skin pebbling at the memory of that year. "He locked me in a cell in the basement, in the dark. Once a month he'd come in to ask if I knew someone named Sam. It took me ten months to get confused, another three to say no."

Still not meeting his eyes, she looked at his hands, noticing they were clenched so tightly the knuckles were white. And a part of her, buried under all the rage and resentment and sadness, warmed at the thought that he was... he was angry for her.

"It took me a long time after to figure out what was real and what wasn't. But Arobynn never let me forget our deal. And right before I met you, he told me the first job."

"What were the jobs?"

Aelin looked back up at that, the air thick between them as she said, "You already know."

"The murders."

She nodded, somehow managing to keep her spine straight despite the feeling of a hundred pound weight being lifted from her shoulders.

He at least knows why now, she thought to herself.

It was one of the things that had bothered her over the years. That he didn't know why she'd done what he thought she'd done. That he thought she'd.. wanted to do it.

He was silent for a long time, just watching her with a carefully emotionless face. "Thank you for telling me that," he said eventually. "I never could understand why."

Then he stood and walked to the door again, and it was only when his hand was on the handle she spoke again. "You asked why I'm doing this, and why I'm doing it now."

He opened the door but paused. Waited.

"It's because I tried to tell you this all those years ago, and you didn't care. You just assumed I was guilty because the evidence looked like it."

She spoke around the lump in her throat. "I told you I didn't kill those people, Rowan, and you didn't even care."

He spun around, slamming the door so hard it rattled, and in a split second, he was in front of her. A hand on the table, the other on her chair, he leaned down and got in her face.

He was so angry, so unbelievably enraged she couldn't believe it. He was angry?

"I didn't care? I didn't fucking care, that's what you think? Watching you get dragged away in cuffs was the worst moment of my life, and you think I didn't fucking care?"

Shock hit her like a bucket of ice water.

That moment was crystal clear in her mind, and she couldn't put what he was saying with what she knew.

He'd watched her with that same expressionless face, with cold eyes that had haunted her ever since.

She opened her mouth to say something, but he wasn't done.

"I fucked loved you! I thought you were the love of my life, Aelin. I begged you to tell me something that would help, tell me anything. But you didn't! You just kept saying you were innocent; you didn't give me anything to actually work with."

"I-"

"I found that stupid fucking list five days before I reported it, did you know that?"

She shook her head, because she hadn't.

"Exactly. You don't know what the hell you're talking about," he growled, eyes flashing. "I spent five days investigating it myself, trying to make sense of why you'd know those names. After your arrest, I spent two weeks trying to find anything, a single piece of evidence, that said it wasn't you. And after the trial, I spent another two months trying to poke holes in my own goddamn case."

He slammed a hand into the table. "I did everything I fucking could! I was desperate for it not to be you. I argued my case so your lawyer could plead circumstantial evidence. I put you on the stand so you could say anything you wanted. I went for life sentences instead of the death penalty to give you time to actually tell me what the hell was going on!"

She was breathing heavily, heart breaking and reforming over and over again at what he was saying, what he was implying.

"I didn't assume shit," he said in a low voice, so close they shared air. "You didn't tell me anything."

Aelin's voice trembled as she croaked, "I tried."

He shook his head, letting out a breath of amusement. "No, you didn't. If this past week has proven anything, it's that you don't try to do anything, you do it. You didn't tell me anything, Aelin. You're still not telling me anything."

"I'm telling you to look again! I'm telling you you didn't look hard enough, because I left breadcrumbs only you could find, breadcrumbs that explain everything."

"Stop playing games with me!" he shouted, eyes flashing with a fresh wave of anger. "It's been eight years! Stop holding onto whatever secret you're holding onto and just tell me!"

Gods, she wanted to.

He was the one person she couldn't trust with this secret, this stupid, most important secret, and yet he was the also the one person she wanted to tell it to.

She opened her mouth to tell him, but what came out was, "I didn't kill them, Rowan. I promise I didn't kill them. I can't... I can't tell you anything else."

"Jesus, Aelin," he spat, pushing off the table and turning to leave.

"Just look into it," she called after him, fingers digging into the table to resist the urge to try and follow him. "I promise you can figure everything out, and you'll understand everything. Please."

She knew why, after all this time, it was so important for him to know the truth when that hadn't been her original plan.

It was because she'd spent eight years believing he hadn't tried, believing she hadn't been a good enough person for him to even look into the possibility it wasn't her.

And maybe it was because he was once again leaving her, or maybe it was because she felt like she was in that courtroom again, begging him to believe her, or maybe it was because of something she didn't even understand yet.

Regardless of the reason, she found herself saying, "I loved you, too, you know."

He looked at her with sad eyes that she was sure mirrored her own and shook his head. "Not enough, apparently."

"You don't believe that," she argued, shaking her head and trying to keep the building emotions down.

"If you'd loved me, you would've told me. You would've given me the proof, whatever breadcrumbs you're talking about. You wouldn't have let me watch them take you away."

"Rowan-"

"You wouldn't have thought, for a second, that I didn't try to fight for you. And you sure as hell wouldn't have waited eight years to do whatever it is you're trying to do."

"I had to," she whispered, even as she knew it wouldn't be enough.

She shook with the effort to not tell him everything, but even after all he'd told her and how everything had changed, she just couldn't. Not yet.

He stood at the door, watching her with those eyes she'd once thought looked like the most beautiful emeralds. "Sometimes I think about it, you know. What life would be like if I hadn't tried to fix your sink in the middle of the night."

She smiled sadly. "Me too."

Rowan shook his head, gaze taking in her face like he thought he'd never see her again.

He thought it was over now, she realized. He thought that now she knew he hadn't given up on her immediately, now that she'd told him the story she'd wanted to tell him, that it was over and she'd give up.

"Look again," she whispered. "You know I didn't do it. It's why you're here, why you kept looking after the trial ended. You know I wouldn't."

"Goodbye, Aelin," he said instead, not telling her any of the things she really wanted to hear.

It wasn't until the door shut behind him she finally let herself cry.

She'd told herself that it didn't matter; that in a month the truth would come out and everything would be normal again.

She'd told herself she was only messing with Rowan for revenge, not because she wanted to see him again or test that he'd find the clues she'd left for him.

She'd told herself this was just a game.

She'd told herself all sorts of things that turned out to be lies.

~~~

Part 3

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[bruhstories]

Dazed and Confused

Summary: You and Connie have been friends for ten years, crushing on each other like a bunch of idiots who can't confess their feelings for one another. Until you go on a trip with your friends. Pairing: Connie Springer x Fem!Reader Warnings & Content: 18+, language, oral sex (female & male receiving), unprotected sex, weed smoking, alcohol consumption, f l u f f Word Count: 4.2 k

A/N: I got so pissed at that last anon that I finished this oneshot quicker lol. @fiaficsxo here it is!

You loved parties. Not the loud music and thick smoke, not the booze and smell of vomit, but your friends. Every time they gathered at someone's place, your heart fluttered, filled with happiness and content and long-lasting memories.

Connie had the brilliant idea of spending a week in the mountains during your spring break, and you wasted an entire night searching for the perfect cottage to rent. Luckily everyone was down with his suggestion, the only problem was how you'd sleep. Historia obviously wanted to share a room with Ymir. Mikasa and Eren were an item now, so they'd have to sleep together. Armin wanted to try his luck with Annie, so no one objected to that. Jean declared that he wanted to bunk with Connie, like the two eligible bachelors they were, and that left you and Sasha to share a room together. You didn't mind it, in all honesty you loved Sasha with all your heart — but you secretly hoped someone would pick up on your feelings for Connie and let you sleep with him. You weren't that lucky.

You packed your bag the night before the trip, obsessively ticking everything on your list and double checking every item and pocket. It was ready, with one item missing — the white lace babydoll smoothed on your dorm bed. You chewed the pen cap, debating whether to bring it with you or not. You bought it for special occasions, but you haven't had a dick appointment in a long time, and you doubted you'd have one this week. With a shrug, you decided to bring it — you never know what might happen. Nighttime passed quickly and you soon found yourself all dolled up, albeit still sleepy from all the tossing and turning, excited to make more memories with your friends.

The train station was packed with people, especially students who went back to their hometowns for the break, and you were relieved to find Armin and Mikasa there. You three were always punctual, followed by Jean and Annie. Eren, Sasha and Connie were always late, which is why you told them the train leaves at 7 am instead of 7:30. It was a dirty strategy, but no one wanted to miss such a fun opportunity because of those lazy fuckers. And lo and behold, they decided to appear at 7:15.

"That was some good thinking." Jean shook his head, hand sympathetically placed on your shoulder.

"I'm only glad you guys rolled with it." You laughed without noticing the way Connie stared at you, and even he didn't understand exactly what he felt. Was he grumpy because he hated morning, or was it Jean's hand on you that irked him?

"It's not polite to stare." Sasha pulled Connie out of his thoughts.

"I wasn't staring, I was looking." Connie rolled his eyes, gripping the handle of his suitcase a bit too tightly.

"I just don't get it why you don't tell her you like her." The girl popped a bubblegum baloon, proceeding to chew it very loudly.

"Are you kidding me? She obviously likes Jean. Look how she's laughing!"

Sasha placed an arm on his shoulder, a sheepish smile on her face. "You, my friend, are a dumbass."

"Takes one to know one."

To say that your friends were loud during the train ride was an understatement. They didn't really care about the nasty glares other passengers shot at them, opting to talk, sing, eat and practically embarrass themselves. But two hours later you arrived, and the fresh, crisp air of the mountains was a blessing. You didn't regret coming, all of you deserved a break after all the exams, studying and all-nighters you guys pulled.

"We could visit the military museum!" Armin suggested, but Connie scrunched his nose.

"We came here to get high, drink and spend time together, why the fuck would we visit some old ass building?"

"I'd like to go to the museum." You awkwardly smiled, earning a 'see?' from the blond. Mikasa, Eren and Annie backed you up, and since it was a democracy, you ended up leaving your bags at the cottage and touring the small town to find the military museum. The building wasn't massive, and inside it was dark, with crimson carpets and dim lights. It was actually quite a romantic atmosphere, had it not been for the weapons and armours displayed in glass cases. Connie watched you intently, taking in every movement, every flinch, every hair tucking, every scrunch of your cute nose. You absorbed the information, hungry for knowledge. This was something you and Connie didn't share — yes, you were down to drinking and smoking, but you were also eager to learn and study, while he always preached how 'you can always retake an exam but you can't relive a party.' He wasn't stupid by any means, but unlike you, Jean, Armin and Mikasa — who alwaysstudied and never skipped lectures — Connie would wing it and somehow end up getting better grades. His strategy didn't always work, and sometimes, when you were in college, he'd ask you to tutor him. Now you were second year undergraduates, and while you were studying different subjects, you still made time for each other.

"That's a nice, uhh..." Connie squinted, "...shotgun."

"It's a musket." You chuckled, your fingers accidentally brushing his as you turned around to face him.

"Shotgun, musket, same thing."

"Actually, muskets are muzzle-loaded and fire a single bullet, but shotguns pack multiple pellets in one shell." You explained. "I'm sorry, you're probably not interested in my ramblings."

"No, no, it's... interesting. I just wasn't expecting you to know so much about guns." He rubbed his nape and smiled at you.

"Well, I do study history, in case you forgot."

"How could I forget that?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" You awkwardly elbowed Connie. Why was it so hard for you to just tell him your feelings? Oh, right, because you've been friends for ten years and if he didn't like you back, it would only ruin a great friendship.

"It means you brag about it so much it's kind of hard to forget." He told you, quickly realising just how insulting that sounded.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know that's how you felt..." You sighed, eyes darting back to the weapons.

"No, I didn't- forget it." Connie shook his head. Well played.

Back at the cottage, with enough food and booze to last the group a month, you decided to stay in your room for the rest of the day. It wasn't the first time you had embarrassing moments with Connie, but this particular one made you anxious to be around him. Did he really dislike you that much, or was it just friendly banter? If you were to ask him, you could find out, but every scenario in your head had a bad outcome, so avoiding him for now was the smartest choice. Sasha pleaded with you to spend the evening in the living room with everyone else, but you brushed her off, telling her you weren't feeling quite well.

"Text me if you need anything." She told you before leaving. It was immature to act this way, you knew that all too well, but it wasn't like Connie cared, right? You eventually decided to go downstairs after finishing a long episode of your favourite tv show, your stomach begging for nourishment. As silently as possible, you tiptoed behind the couch. The hallway was dim, the sun had already set, and the only lights were the ones from the wide TV screen in the living room where your friends were watching some corny horror movie. You could cut the suspense and tension with a knife, and when you dropped a teaspoon, everyone jumped.

"Sorry, sorry! It's just me!"

"Jesus Christ, Y/N, you almost gave me a heart attack." Jean got up from the floor and walked behind the couch. "How are you feeling? Sasha said you're ill."

"I'm fine, don't worry." You picked the spoon up and threw it in the sink. "It's just a headache, I'll sleep it off."

"Good, we need you here." The man wrapped an arm around you. "You're missing how Connie's crapping his pants at this shitty movie."

From the outside it would seem like you and Jean were a couple, but the truth was far from it. You two grew up together, his family was friends with your family, and what you had was nothing more than a brother-sister relationship. Jean's little remark earned a disgruntled look from Connie, you quickly picked up on that, and so you playfully jabbed him in the stomach.

"Connie's crapping his pants? You're the one who almost had a heart attack." You grinned.

"Oi, that was only because you dropped your stupid spoon. I was invested in the movie."

"Mhm, sure you were."

"Hey, you sure you don't want to join us?" Mikasa waved at you from the living room. You pondered over her question. Perhaps it wouldn't be too awkward to sit with them.

"Alright, sure, why not?"

"Come, sit next to me." Sasha shuffled to the side, but what she really meant by that was 'sit next to Connie', because she shuffled to the otherside.

The following two nights were surprisingly quiet, all you did was play board games, watch movies and walk around the town taking pictures. The tension between Connie and you seemed to dissipate, and you both forgot the unpleasant interaction you had on the first day. But on the fourth night, that's when shit hit the fan. Annie and Armin left for a date, and Eren and Mikasa wanted to spend the night alone in their room, leaving you, Sasha, Jean and Connie unsupervised, bored and tipsy. There was absolutely nothing good to watch on the TV, and you almost wanted to scream when your friends wanted to play truth or dare. It was one of those games you despised, because the whole point of it was to put the players in uncomfortable situations. And you didn't like being uncomfortable, unlike your friends.

"Jean, truth or dare?" Sasha beamed.

"Dare, duh."

"Alright, I dare you to switch roommates for the rest of the week." She sipped her blackberry cider.

"Okay? So, I'll stay with Y/N, then."

Good lord, if looks could kill, Connie's would annihilate Jean and Sasha off the face of the Earth.

"No, no, you'll stay with me. Y/N will stay with Connie."

"Eh? Why does your dare involve us?" You asked, confused and curious of your friend's proposal.

"Because." She shrugged. "Don't pussy out."

"I'm not pussying out. A dare's a dare." Jean scoffed. "I'm gonna go take my shit in your room and shower."

"Y-yeah, I'll go bring mine, too." You got up, using this time to hyperventilate alone. What the fuck was Sasha even thinking? Was this some stupid joke? But your friends wouldn't harm you, so why would she suggest such a stupid thing?

You took a quick shower before curling up in the bed, blankets covering you from neck to toe. Connie wasn't back yet, and you didn't want to go after him, that would just be odd. You were hoping you'd fall asleep before he returned, to avoid any unnecessary fuss, but just as you closed your eyes, the door opened. Maybe you could pretend you were asleep? He struggled to find his pyjamas in the dark, stumbling over furniture and knocking things down, and you turned the bedside lamp on to ease his search.

"Did I wake you up?" Connie bit his lower lip, and through the dim light you watched the way his grey eyes glistened, the way his short brown hair was ruffled, and how the sage green t-shirt hugged his toned abdomen.

"No, no, 's alright. I wasn't sleeping. I can't exactly fall asleep." You clutched the blanket at your chest as you shook the intrusive thoughts away. Connie was your friend, damn it, there was no room for romance between you.

"I can sleep on the floor if you want."

"Oh, God, no, it's... stiff."

"Um, yeah, it kinda is. Alright then, I'll jump in the shower real quick before going to bed." He stumbled into the bathroom and you really wanted to fall asleep now.

But you couldn't. Every time you closed your eyes, Connie's face popped in your head. So much for resting. You tossed and turned on the mattress, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in, but nothing helped. It didn't take long for him to finish his shower, and you mentally chastised yourself for not falling asleep when you felt him shuffle under the same blanket that was covering you. For a minute, you didn't utter a word, you barely breathed, afraid to disturb the silence in the room.

"Are you asleep?"

"Nope." You heard the click of Connie's phone and turned around. You couldn't see him, but you could hear him.

"Do you wanna talk about something? Until we fall asleep, I mean." You suggested.

"Hmm, sure." He turned on his side and you felt his breath fanning over your cheeks. You were too close to him. "Actually, d'you wanna smoke?"

"Aren't the others gonna be mad if we smoke without them?"

"They don't have to know. Besides, you and I never smoked together." Connie was already up, rummaging through his backpack with the flashlight of his phone. "And then we can talk as much as you want."

"Alright, I'm down."

You laid on the floor, your head next to Connie's as you looked at the ceiling, smoke leaving your lips. He took the joint from you, fingers touching yours and you blushed, the haze of the weed melting your worries away.

"Do you want me to skip the song?" Connie asked, and for a moment you forgot there was a song playing.

"No, I like it." You confessed. "I didn't know you liked Led Zeppelin."

"There's lots of things you don't know about me, Y/N." He passed you the joint.

"Okay, tell me something else I don't know."

"I like it when you randomly say historical or scientific facts."

"Didn't you say I brag too much about it?" You took one final drag before you stubbed the joint out in a makeshift ashtray filled with a bit of water. By this point you were high as a kite, every trace of rationality gone.

"That doesn't mean I don't like it." Connie smiled and you could feel it in his voice. "Now you tell me something I don't know about you."

"I can't sleep with open doors. It freaks me out." You sat up, a breeze blowing through the window sending shivers down your spine. "It's a bit cold, do you mind if I close the window?"

"Go ahead."

You got up and picked the ashtray up but before you could close the window, you stumbled over a chest of drawers, the ashes mixed with water spilling over your t-shirt.

"You okay?" He quickly crawled to you, concern written all over his face.

"Yeah, I'm just clumsy." You laughed it off and waved your free hand. "I'll go get changed, I should have a spare shirt."

But you didn't have a spare shirt. All you had was that stupid white babydoll, and anxiety seeped through your veins. You couldn't exactly show up in that in front of your crush. And you didn't want to ask him for a shirt either. Fuck it, what else could you do?

You peeked out the bathroom door and saw Connie back in bed, lazily scrolling through his phone. God, this was embarrassing.

"You look like you've seen a ghost." He laughed, but when your facial expression didn't change, he frowned. "Y/N?"

"Um, so, I didn't have a spare shirt and- Jesus, this is awkward." You opened the door and his eyes widened. "Is it alright if I sleep in this?"

"Oh, I get it now." Connie scoffed.

"Get what?"

"You were hoping you'd share a room with Jean, right?" He sounded almost disgusted.

"Excuse you? Where did you even get that idea?" You slammed the bathroom door shut, arms folded across your chest.

"I'm not stupid, Y/N. I've seen the way you two act. Do yourselves a favour and just fuck already."

You were speechless. Completely reactionless. The weed amplified your anger, but his words brought tears to your eyes.

"You... you fucking asshole! You think I brought this for Jean? I brought it for you!"

"Eh? M-me?" Connie was confused, and you were pissed.

"Yes, you. Jean's like a brother to me, oh my God! Ew!"

"Wait, so you and Jean are not in love with each other?"

"In love?? Connie, how high are you exactly?" You walked closer to the bed, arms still crossed.

"But- Fuck, I am stupid." He shook his head, the memories of you flirting with him flashing before his eyes. "I fucked up, didn't I?"

"A bit..." Your muscles relaxed and you sat on the mattress. "Really, Connie, I... I like you. A lot. But you're always giving me mixed signals."

"That's because I always thought you liked Jean!" He threw his hands in the air in exasperation.

"No, you're the only one."

"Huh, guess I've really been dazed and confused."

Calloused fingertips ran across your hips leaving goosebumps in their trail. Your hands roamed his back and the way Connie kissed you was better than any high you've ever experienced. He was touch-starved, and you were just as needy. His knee found its place between your thighs and you moaned when it barely brushed your cunt.

"I've been dreaming for this moment for as long as I can remember." Connie breathed into your neck, the hot breath tickling your skin.

"Me too, you blind bat." You laughed and he turned you over, hovering over you.

"'M sorry I didn't notice quicker." He kissed you again. One hand travelled lower, pushing your underwear to the side before he pushed two fingers between your folds. "Fuck, you're so wet."

"Well, at least now I don't have to finger myself thinking about you." You whimpered with a grin.

"Oh?" Connie arched a brow. "Is that what you've been doing?" He curled up his fingers and you threw your head back with a moan. "I thought you were a prude."

"T-there's lots of things you d-don't know about m-me!" You replied back between oh’sand ah’s, imitating his words from an hour ago. That only earned a sneer from Connie, his head dipping between your thighs. "Wait, what are you do- ooh fuck!"

His tongue lapped at your cunt, fingers pumping in and out of you, and you completely sunk into the mattress, moaning his name over and over again. You gripped the sheets, flexing the muscles in your legs as you squirmed and thrashed. Connie stopped and you almost crushed his skull with your thighs at the empty feeling. He pulled your underwear down and shoved the cotton panties in your mouth.

"Don't wake everyone up, Y/N. You don't want them knowing what a little slut you are, do you?"

You shook your head and Connie went back to circling your clit with his tongue, adrenaline rushing through your entire body with each lick, each suck. Tears of pleasure pooled at your eyes, nose and cheeks red from the thrill of your incoming orgasm. The way he was sloppily eating your pussy and moaning while doing it drove you insane, and within seconds you came undone, thighs trembling with delight. In fact, you were so sore you had to push his head back, begging him to stop so you could return the favour.

"You taste so sweet." Connie licked his lips. You don't know what possessed you to pull him into a kiss after you removed the makeshift gag, but he was right, you were sweet.

"Can I...?" Your eyes drifted down to his twitching cock, your voice soft and quiet.

"You wanna suck it?"

"Yes."

"Later. Right now, I wanna fuck you."

Connie gave you no time to protest, his elbow pushed one of your things to the side, the blushing tip of his cock grazing over your overstimulated clit, up and down your slit. Inch by inch it disappeared into your cunt and he let out a satisfied sigh. You bucked your hips, manicured nails digging into his shoulders with each thrust.

"Shit, you're so fucking tight!" Connie growled, head lowering to kiss you. You could still taste yourself on his lips and that only made you clench your spongy walls around his cock. That seemed to please him, because he rocked his hips harder and faster. "You like it?"

"Oh, God, yes!" You gasped, beads of sweat forming on your forehead as you clawed his back.

"Fuck, I want you to ride me." He gripped your hips tighter and turned you over. You tried your best to get in the new position without letting his cock slip out of you, and when you finally adjusted yourself, it was a whole new challenge. Gravity pulled you down, and his tip brushed your cervix, your eyes squinting at the slight pain. "If it hurts, stop-"

"No!" You cried out, your hands resting on his chest. You bounced up and down, the uncomfortable feeling slowly replaced with pleasure. Connie's hands traced your thighs as you rode him, another wave of heat flushing through your core. His palm met your cunt, thumb circling over your clit. "I can't c-come again!"

"Yes, you can. And you will cream on my cock."

The disgust words worked like magic and you flexed your thighs, bouncing faster, head thrown back, hair cascading down your back. "You're so beautiful, Y/N."

"Connie, I-" The words stopped in your throat, the pressure too much for you to handle.

"You what?"

"I'm- oh, God!"

"Atta girl!" He praised you when he felt your silken walls relaxing and your thighs quaking. The second orgasm was so intense you let yourself fall over his chest, dizzy and tired. You thought he'd give you a break, but Connie wrapped an arm around your back, holding you in place before giving your oversensitive cunt a few more thrusts. "Now you can return the favour."

You mustered up some strength to get up and kneel in front of the bed, between his legs.

"Please don't come in my mouth." You asked him before wrapping your pretty lips around his cock.

"Gotchaah-" Connie choked on his words when he felt himself in your hot mouth. You bobbed your head up and down, cheeks hollowed and eyes on him. You didn't break eye contact when you pulled away and spat on the tip, hand pumping his cock to smear the spit. "Hot." He mumbled before you went back to sucking. You felt the throbbing, tightening your lips around him and picking up the pace. "Y/N-"

It all happened in a flash — Connie yanked your hair and pulled your head back, thick ropes of milky white cum shooting all over your face and neck.

"Eew!" You scrunched your nose, hand under your chin to stop it from dripping down the floor.

"What do you mean ew? That's, like, a billion kids!"

"Actually, a fertile man produces around-"

"Don't start. Do not." He pressed his index finger over your lips. "Let's get you cleaned up."

You woke up sore, especially between your thighs, but damn, was it worth it. Connie wrapped an arm around your waist, mumbling something about how pretty you are, but you assumed he was still sleeping — or still high. The sun shone through the blinds and you squinted, annoyed by the brightness, and so you turned around, watching the way your crush snored peacefully.

"Cute." You smiled and planted a kiss on his forehead, waking him up. "Oh, I'm sorry!"

"Why?" Connie rubbed his eyes. "Waking up to you is a blessing."

You couldn't hide the tinting of your cheeks and the grin on your lips. "I didn't think you were the romantic type."

"There's lots of things-"

"I don't know about you. But I'd like to know those things. If you let me, of course." You bit your lower lip, eyes filled with hope.

"Can I be your boyfriend?" He sat up, his eyes serious.

"I thought you'd never ask."

Okay, so maybe Sasha knew a thing or two when she dared Jean to switch roommates.

You walked into the kitchen after getting ready for the day, with Connie following behind you. Everyone was eating their breakfast, and Jean instantly dashed to you.

"Connie, bro, take me back. Sasha's leaving crumbs all over the bed! I can't sleep like that!"

"I can't, man, I wanna spend the rest of the week with my girlfriend." He sneered and you elbowed him.

"I forgot to mention Jean's overprotecti-"

"Your what? Hands off my sister from another mister, you creep!"

"Creep? You're the one who was sexting someone's sister last night." Sasha chimed in, mouth full of cereal.

"Thanks, Sash." Jean rolled his eyes. "For real, how did this happen?"

"You see, mate, when a man and a woman love each other-"

"Nope. I will not hear this."

[thevindicativevordan]

On Maxima

Every time DC wants to put Supes in a relationship with someone other than Lois, I always wonder why they don't just go with Maxima.

Especially since she's basically what they turn Diana into every time they try to hook the two of them up. Why not just go with the actual Superman Rogue/supporting character who is also a warrior-queen? Who is already almost as violent as she is horny, forcing Clark to try to get her to chill out, even as he's tempted to join her? If it isn't already clear, I like Maxima. Her character archetype, the supervillainess who tempts the hero with sex appeal, is one that's pretty damn popular for obvious reasons. Also for obvious reasons, this kind of character can provoke a backlash nowadays.

Personally I think she can still work just fine, she just needs some revamp. The basics of her character and backstory are still solid and offer storytelling potential. She's the Queen of the alien Empire of Almerac. Maxima is drawn to Superman because of his power. The real big fix is changing why she's attracted to his power, and why she came to Earth in the first place, shifting it away from eugenics to something else.

What I'd Do With Maxima

So I'm going to take some cues from the DCAU incarnation of Maxima in that the reason she seeks Superman out is because she's been deposed.

DCAU Maxima got deposed after she met Superman, but she lost her throne because her people judged her too self-absorbed and immature to lead them. Which she totally was, and changing that formed the crux of her character development over the course of the episode. I'd take a similar route with reworking comics Maxima's backstory.

Maxima has just taken the throne when the Interstellar Empire of Almerac comes under the assault of Mongul of Warworld. Crushing Almerac's defenses, Mongul gives the world an ultimatum: Turn over a selection of their greatest fighters to fight for Almerac's continued right to exist in Mongul's gladiator arenas or he'll reduce the entire planet to ashes. He also demands a sizeable portion of the population be turned over as slaves tasked with keeping Warworld running, and he wants Maxima to be among those slaves as a symbol of Mongul's authority over Almerac. Maxima angrily refuses, but her people don't trust in her leadership on account of her youth and immaturity, and Maxima is overthrown. She's handed over for transport to Warworld, but while en route she breaks free and seizes control of the transport. Alone and without allies, Maxima sets a course for Earth to seek out the one person she's heard is a match for the Lord of Warworld: Superman.

Only interested at first in his power, and planning to use and dispose of him afterwards, Maxima at first presents herself to Clark as a potential mate. Her hope is that will entice him to support her on what could be a suicide mission, and that offering power and wealth via marriage will cement his loyalty. Being betrayed by her subjects still stings her though she takes great pains to pretend otherwise. Superman turns down the marriage offer, but agrees to follow her to take down Mongul and free Almerac. The two travel back to Almerac which is in the midst of choosing who will fight on Warworld. Clark pretends to be a native of Almerac and is chosen as one of the champions. Initially planning to stay on Almerac and purge those who betrayed her while Clark fights on Warworld, Maxima chooses to give herself up to Mongul, after he announces that he will be vaporizing an entire continent as punishment for the Almeracans failure to turn her over to him. Amused at her compassion for those who betrayed her, Mongul adds Maxima to the roster of gladiators, and she departs with Clark to the arenas.

Over the course of a series of battles, Maxima and Clark butt heads, watch each other's backs, and gradually fall in love with each other. Maxima admires Clark's resolve, restraint, and maturity, traits she's forced to admit she lacked. She's skeptical of his idealism however, seeing it as a flaw that undermines his effectiveness, particularly when it comes to killing. Clark admires Maxima's passion, bravery, and refusal to settle for anything less than the best in anyone including herself. All traits that make him ponder if perhaps she does have it in her to be a good leader. He dislikes her arrogance and entitlement however, particularly when it comes to her royal right to rule. A frequent source of fights between the two is whether the common person should have any voice in government with Maxima scoffing at that and point at how the mob gave in to Mongul, with Clark countering that Almeracans had long felt unheard and cut off from their rulers. Obviously that they're both super hot doesn't hurt as part of why they end up sleeping together.

Ultimately through a series of events Superman and Maxima succeed in freeing Almerac and driving Mongul away. Then everything promptly goes to hell. Having fallen for Clark for real over the course of their adventure, Maxima repeats her offer to him of marriage, except genuinely this time.

The two have had sex a couple times already, and Clark is genuinely tempted at the prospect of sticking with Maxima. He's grown to enjoy her company (having sex tends to do that), he enjoys the freedom to be himself without having to hide his powers, the Almeracans embrace him as their champion, and as Maxima's consort he could take an active hand in shaping society. At the point in Clark's career where I'd want to do this story, he's growing out of his youthful rage, but he's still not at peace with his lot in life. Earth's inability to meaningfully change at the pace he wants frustrates him, and leaving behind the restrictions of life there does entice him. My point is that I think the appeal of Maxima to Superman should and can be more than just breeding little Clarks as has been the case in the past.

However Clark ultimately rejects the offer. He can't bring himself to cut ties with Earth, Maxima's unwillingness to cede some of her power to her people isn't something Clark can accept, and Clark is also concerned that taking up her offer would compromise his ability to be a hero. As you would expect, Maxima is pissed at his refusal, treating it as another stab in the back. Due to his help in freeing her people and reclaiming her throne, she spares his life but exiles him from Almerac, declaring him persona non grata throughout the Empire.

Unbeknownst to Clark, who leaves after it's made clear the Almeracans don't want a civil war, Maxima is pregnant with his child. The child allows her to avoid entering into a political marriage, maintaining her independence since she now has a heir. This daughter will be groomed in hidden to take over the Empire, which Maxima now has plans to expand. The humiliation Mongul visited upon Almerac has had a big impact on her mindset. Now she's focused on eliminating any potential threats to her people, and she wants to transform Almerac into the greatest Interstellar Empire in the Milky Way. Then it will never be at the mercy of a foreign power ever again.

For stories, Superman and Maxima are clearly going to clash given she's become an imperialist herself, no better than Mongul. You can tell stories about Clark foiling Maxima's attempts to conquer other worlds, or Earth itself. Maxima would occasionally dispatch assassins or go personally to attack Clark, for the purpose of preventing him from getting "soft". The public reason for this is that he's become a roadblock to her aims, and needs to be eliminated. Secretly, her goal is to constantly push him to be stronger because she wants him to meet his daughter one day. Not for any sentimental reasons mind you, Maxima wants Superman to teach their daughter to be his equal in ability and resourcefulness. After learning everything she can from Clark, said daughter will be charged with leading the invasion of Earth. Conquering Earth, and defeating Superman, will be the girl's rite of passage into cementing herself as Maxima's heir. The world of her father, Superman, is destined to be her own Throneworld as Almerac's is Maxima's.

Think you could have a lot of fun in giving Clark a "Damian" of his own to deal with. Personally I'd have it so that the "daughter" would be akin to the New 52 Maxima who I thought had some potential. You could have Maxima and Maxima Jr. argue about the morality of Almerac's expansion, with MJ ultimately taking her father's side which causes enormous problems for her mother since she can't disown her daughter without a replacement heir. I think that could be a fun family dynamic to explore.

Wondering where Maxima will show up next. Part of me was hoping Almerac was that part of underdeveloped Superman lore PKJ talked about fleshing out, but that seems to be either Warworld or the Phantom Zone. I still think Maxima and Almerac have a lot of potential to be major players in Superman's world, but it's going to take someone being interested in fleshing them out. Maybe the upcoming Superman cartoon will accomplish that? If not I'll just have to hope someone will down the line.

[skipps-writes-for-gojo-satoru]

Someone made an incredible animation of the scene in hidden inventory where Gojo gets screamed at by teen girls fawning over him, and it's beautiful ✨

https://youtu.be/5l9_O51-YYs

Also, it highlights my previous point that when Gojo's confronted by women flirting with him, he doesn't really do... Anything. He's just chill about it. And the little °^° face he makes and the little confused "hm?" from the manga panel in the beginning could indicate that Gojo might not be hit on by girls as often as we think- Jujutsu sorcerers are busy and have even their time off interrupted on the regular. Other than being mildly amused, we don't see Gojo actively bask or pursue attention from women (other than Utahime ofc, which could be because she's as straight-laced as Nanami).

The little content smile he gives at the end basically says it all: Gojo enjoys the attention, but most likely isn't interested in pursuing anything more than that, including sexual relations (with more reasons from my previous posts).

I could see Gojo being the type to allow himself to appreciate just a bit of affection from random women he encounters on missions and then casually walking off with a lazy wave of his hand- just like he did with Miwa.

The man's on a mission (literally) with the goal to change the world. Virgin Gojo is very possible seeing how unaffected he is by women throwing themselves at him- or at least, he allows himself a moment to enjoy the attention but is quick to dismiss the thought from his mind to focus on his duty.

Honestly, non virgin Gojo is still possible, but unless we see Gojo actually show interest or actively flirt with someone (which seems unlikely), we may never know. To me, analyzing Gojo with his interactions with other characters (not his antics) makes me think it's more likely Gojo is a virgin than not, simply bc the argument for Gojo being a non virgin is his looks and immaturity (or his act of immaturity, we know Gojo thinks in a much more complex way than he lets on) which I'd argue is not an accurate description of his character, because that's only a part of it, and is in fact only what Gojo shows on the surface. And there's plenty of reasons why his lifestyle would make such getaways difficult. Also, Gojo's lack of enthusiasm for it. Gojo allows girls to fawn over him, but he hardly stokes the fire more than just taking off his glasses when they asked him to.

If Gojo was more like Osamu Dazai from Bungou Stray Dogs who flirts with every women he sees, I would have an easier time believing he would not be a virgin, but his lifestyle, behavior, and even his Six Eyes and his goal makes me think he wouldn't choose to constantly go on small getaways like that. Personally, I'd say Gojo spends more of his time plotting and maximizing his efforts on recreating Jujutsu Society.

Really, when Gege said he couldn't see Gojo being faithful to a woman could be because he's already committed to his job. Not because he's out womanizing, but even because the type of woman he'd commit to is so rare. And even if he did find a woman he'd commit to, being the ENTP he is means he's incapable of immediately recognizing and acting on his emotions- not because he doesn't have them, but because they're not really his forté. He'd rather rationalize his behavior than attempt to understand his own feelings. It'll take time and patience, but Gojo committing is still a possibility.

Honestly, I'd like to hear why people would think Gojo's a cheater/womanizer to begin with? Besides him teasing Utahime, Gojo's been pretty respectful to Shoko and Mei Mei. He even complimented and recognized Mei Mei's strength as a sorcerer. He didn't flirt once with the hoard of girls fawning over him. In fact, he was quick to focus on his mission despite the attention. I don't think Gojo's ever even teased Shoko about anything (other than commenting on her terrible way of explaining things, which is more of a fact than teasing). Though, correct me if I'm wrong.

Also, I haven't mentioned Riko much in previous posts and idrk why lol. But while Gojo is dominated by logical thinking, he's emotionally inept enough to notice Riko's mood. He may seem cold in how he comforted her by saying he'd leave her behind, but it's more of his ENTP personality that has him expressing his emotions in a more objective manner- even if it hurts, it's the truth, and that's fine isn't it? (Typical ENTP way of thinking).

Also slight tangent I read that one long meta about Gojo's interaction with Riko someone linked, and I'm completely appalled that they would think Gojo is only "pretending" to have emotions, "mimicking" them even! That he's incapable of truly feeling when in fact it's inherently characteristic of any ENTP to express themselves in a way that, to others, would be considered "cold" and unempathetic. It just goes to show just how misunderstood ENTPs are. They only make up 3% of the world so are often confused for socios/narcs/psychos which is understandable-

But I wanna make one thing clear: all sociopaths could be considered ENTPs. But not all ENTPs are sociopaths. (Switch Socio with psycho/narc/etc and it still works). Why?

Purpose.

Arrogance, boastfulness, unrefined emotional sensitivity, recklessness, impulsiveness- all of those fall below the importance of Purpose. Regardless of how Gojo "acts," it's been expressed time and time again- Gojo acts for the sake of the next generation. Sociopaths/Antisocial Personality Disorder/Psychopaths have one most common defining starting point: "it all starts with cruelty to animals and lack of response to their own actions, or actions of other people."

Let's make it more simple: regardless of whatever end of the spectrum sociopathy can be- high functioning, low functioning- antisocial personality disorder, in it's most simple terms, along with psychopathy and narcissism, condensed into one common trait is very clear: Their actions, while easily blendible into society, are for the sole purpose of pleasuring themselves.

Why don't people notice those with these disorders? Because their *behavior* is so similar to not just the typical ENTP, but also the ISTP AND ESTP. They can easily be mistaken for common members of society, but again: their sole purpose is the pursuit of pleasure themselves, while acting with complete disregard for the consequences of not just their own actions but others'. Staying in one job for extended periods of time is especially rare for a sociopath in particular, and this is one very clear difference between Gojo and a sociopath.

Gojo is willing to spend the rest of his life as a Jujutsu Sorcerer for the sake of others. This sentence alone defies any inclination that he could be a sociopath regardless of any other symptoms commonly associated with sociopathy, such as emotional insensitivity, hostility, risk taking behavior, lack of restraint, and impulsivity- there's a reason such people blend in with society, and that's because such symptoms are common with *any* person, regardless of personality type. Other than with the higher ups, Gojo hardly shows the anger, irritability, or general discontent that a sociopath is most commonly is associated with as their established mood - and even if he did, would being easily irritatable while in the position of the Strongest, the one who carries the burden of establishing a new future of Jujutsu Society on his shoulders alone be so unrealistic? That is why Purpose is so important.

If Gojo truly was a Sociopath, he would have dipped long before Jujutsu Kaisen had even started.

And I apologize for yet another tangent! Someone said Gojo sees his students as weapons or tools to be used in furthering his agenda. While that is not necessarily untrue, the implication is hardly close to reality. Like someone else commented, Gojo goes far and beyond for his students. While he is undoubtedly lacking in his ability to show affection in the most traditional of ways, it's clear that Gojo cares for his students-and others- deeply, whether that be when he went to see Yuta on his business trip to ensure Yuji would be safely taken care of in his absence, when he goes out of his way to personally supervise his students, when he willingly spends a whole day with Nanami just to ask him to mentor Yuji for him (in the Light Novel) regardless of Nanami's disdain, when he turned his Infinity off to allow Yaga to punish him (Gege made it clear in the manga that Gojo had done so to be a good role model for his students and that he recognizes his behavior deserves punishment), and when Gojo commented that he didn't want to think any of his students would be the traitor. Gojo does not express himself as most people do- he's only one of the most misunderstood personality types (on record, along with a few other personalites if you've researched them) and to say people have misinterpreted his character is much more plausible when even in real life, people who behave like Gojo are statistically reported to be misapprehended more often than more populated personality types. When inspected closely, there are so many ways Gojo himself expresses his care for other people, only hidden thinly behind the surface of his lofty attitude and uncaring demeanor. It only takes a few looks at his behavior, not his mouth, to recognize how much he goes out of his way for his students, doing he things that don't necessarily help further his agenda simply because he wants to, not because he has to. Changing the world isn't even something the average person would strive to do, yet Gojo makes it his life goal to accomplish. How could a heartless, emotion mimicking person possibly endure the strife necessary to accomplish such a task? It's appalling.

Gojo is more charitable than most people on the earth, simply because of the perseverance and diligence he takes to withstand the stress and hardships of Jujutsu Society for others. Remember that he chose to become the Strongest, it didn't happen overnight, and in becoming the Strongest, he carries the heaviest burden.

That's without mentioning that even though Gojo is the Strongest, and while to most he seems to proudly state so, it's clear that despite Gojo's antics, he recognizes his weaknesses as a sorcerer and is able to rely on others to make up for them. He had asked Nanami to mentor Yuji because he acknowledged his own flaws as a teacher and that Nanami would have a better capacity than him in that area (in Light Novel). He travelled to see Yuta to ask him to care for Yuji in case something happened to him- and Gojo knows that it's possible that he could be defeated somehow, someway. He's not so deluded to think he's untouchable, even despite his playfulnesses. He is always thinking ahead, calculating his next move while understanding his own shortcomings, acting prudently to ensure a better future.

He is a much deeper and complex character if one only takes the time to look past his antics and analyze his behavior- Something many people in real life seem to miss, and that is the true reason why Gojo struggles to commit.

Sorry for the long tangent and repetitiveness in the beginning lol! Back to the main issue!

Tl;dr there's more evidence of Gojo being a virgin who's more focused on work than pleasure. There's plenty of handsome men who don't seek out sex for reprieve but seek mental stimulation instead for relief. It's totally normal. Gojo could even spend his free time playing video games. He did admit to spending long hours beating 99 years of Momotarou Dentetsu to Geto. He's a gamer, and we know how gamers are commonly known for being virgins lol. Gojo could even be asexual for all we know. He could even be demisexual- someone who doesn't pursue sexual pleasure unless he's made an emotional connection with then. He doesn't necessarily have to even be straight or bi. Therefore, Gojo is very likely to be 28 year old virgin, and there's nothing wrong or strange about that.

Sources: ENTP articles, statistics on mbti rarity, other mbti articles, some quick Google searches, articles on sociopathy, psychopathy, narcissism, and antisocial disorders, etc, the manga, light novels, other metas in threads I remember reading, the anime, graphic organizers

Thanks for reading! 🙏

- 🤔

AHHHH CAN I JUST SAY THE ANIMATION IS DAMN GOOD 🔥🔥🔥 this scene in the manga is absolutely iconic prepare yourselves for season 2 😤 I literally had to stop the video and stare at him...I think one of the reasons Gojo behaved that way is becuz during childhood he probably didn't go out and be around people hence his confused reaction with the screaming teens. I mean everyone enjoys being complimented and getting attention from time to time and gojo is not an exception to this. Yes I definitely agree that when Gege said that he probably meant he's too busy for a relationship. The way it was translated made alot of people confused hence the player/cheater gojo was born. But then also the remember the comment he made when Gojo won the popularity poll? "Pick Nanami instead" ahhh hilarious

MY GAWD 🤔 ANON CAN I JUST SAY THAT YOU'RE AMAZING?! You explained in a way that easy to understand and you made statements backing it up with evidence. I learned from your ask than I ever did in university 😂 wow its truly fascinating though I never knew much personality types especially ENTPs I DON'T BELIEVE FOR ONE SEC GOJO IS A SOCIOPATH OR PSYCHOPATH fight me if you do. Exactly exactly just as anon said "He is a much deeper and complex character if one only takes the time to look past his antics and analyze his behavior." I COULDN'T AGREE MORE 😤 thank you so much for once again educating the community I'm a fan of you 🤔 anon ❤

[dxmedstudent]

(re: dating query) Thanks for writing out such a thoughtful reply! For context, I'm 27 and female. I've used Hinge but find lots of men my age on there still seem a little immature, and like they're mostly looking for short term casual flings. I haven't tried match.com but sounds like it would be worth looking into. I also wonder if I should think about dating slightly older men, but not sure if it would introduce a power dynamic. What scares me is that I'd like to have kids one day, but a woman 35+ is considered a "high risk pregnancy". and I haven't even met anyone I'd want to have children with yet. I'll be honest it really sends panic through me that I have effectively "8 years" left to both find a partner and have kids. I know about egg freezing etc but realistically it's prohibitively expensive. I guess we can only try our best and see what cards the universe deals us.

I was in my very early 30s (i think?) when I started dating more seriously again, this time online. So I think you might have more luck. I know what you mean, sometimes it can feel like everyone wants something casual, which is frustrating when that's not what you want. It can also take time - online dating is amazing because it gives you a chance to peruse a large number of people, but realistically most of those people won't necessarily want the same thing, won't have stuff in common with you, or may be incompatible (don't want kids, smoke, etc). It can take time to find the people who are more on your wavelength, but they are out there. I know that an entire bunch of my friends in our late 20s and early 30s all started online dating around the same time and all found longterm partners! It can take a while but it's definitely possible - these days around 1/3 of couples meet online - and that figure is from several years ago, so the real figure may now be even higher. TBH everyone I know who didn't meet at university basically met their partner online dating. I'd be careful with older men - yes, there might be a bit of a weird dynamic if they are a lot older (like, maybe more than 5 years older?) but also there's no guarantee that guys in their 30s or even 40s don't want to mess around. I've known people who always dated up in age and still somehow managed to find the playboys! Meanwhile I know plenty of people who found people ready to settle down in their 20s. Ultimately I think it has more to do with looking for the right people than age alone - there are people who want to stay casual at almost any age! And some people who are single for very good reasons! If it makes you feel better, I'll be 35, maybe 36 by the time I/we realistically plan to start having kids. I have a host of potentially fertility-affecting gynae issues which might make things harder, or might not (I joke that I have Schrodinger's ovaries - don't know if they'll work until we try!), and the way I try to deal with that is by focusing on the fact that it has to be the right time in my life to have kids. Over the years I made peace with the fact that I wouldn't compromise on what I wanted or needed in life before I could commit to having kids (stability, financial security, a strong relationship with someone who also felt ready to have kids), even if that meant having kids much later, or possibly missing out. Having kids should ideally never be a rushed decision. My gynaecologist recommended egg freezing if I/we left it more than a certain number of years, but realistically that's both very expensive and very unreliable - personally, I'd rather prioritise having kids sooner than rely on egg freezing because it's really not a guarantee. I've also got a history of early menopause in my family, so my timeline is probably more urgent than most people's anyway. Despite that, it was absolutely important for me that my life is stable, and myself and a partner are in the right place to have kids before it happens- I want to be able to offer any kids I have the best life that we can, and to plan around it as responsibly as possible. If you ever want to chat about that side of things, my asks and messages are open! I have friends who've had kids happily after ge 35 - and without any effort trying! 35 is when fertility starts to drop more steeply and the risks of certain things start to increase, but it's not like fertility suddenly stops aged 35. I personally wouldn't leave it til age 40, as the risk of miscarriage is much higher, and chances of getting pregnant are much lower in one's 40s - it's not impossible, and people should still use contraception if they are having PIV sex, but the odds aren't as high as most people would like them to be.

[the-coffee-story]

Rise of the Forest God

Chapter 15 - Dream or Nightmare?

Coffee had never been an avid dreamer. No matter what, he always had the rather convenient ability to simply knock out whenever he chose to, and sleep through most of the annoying little inconveniences of life. This, he thought, was a rather useful skill- considering he had seen more than his fair share of gruesome corpses on a regular schedule for the past however-many years, and managed to scrape by without any form of nightmares. But for reasons unknown to him, in the past few months this had changed.

The first dream had manifested itself the night after Eugenia's arrest had gone so horribly wrong, and had shaken Coffee so much he'd promptly proposed to Violet the next day. Since then they appeared regularly, throwing his once orderly mental state on it's head and forcing him to take a step back and seriously reconsider whether he might just be a little traumatized by the events of last year. You know - just a little.

The thing that bothered him the most about those dreams wasn't just how suddenly they'd come to disrupt the moments of peace he had to himself, after he'd lived up to his mid twenties without a single one. No, that was fine, in his eyes he could live with that, but the thing was - every one of them featured his dead brothers.

The two pale, bruised and battered figures looked up in their own loose rhythm when Coffee snaked around a corner. Henry waved, thick droplets of water running down his sleeves and dripping from his muddy white pullover. The sleeves themselves were ever so slightly too short for him. It made sense, the thing had only been borrowed after all. Nobody had planned on him winding up wearing it in his watery grave. "Hiii!"

Franklin groaned upon noticing Coffee was there. "Hello, I guess. Why the sour face?"

Coffee cleared his throat. Henry made space and he sat down between them. Cold skin touched both of his shoulders and he shivered.

"Don't even bother glaring at me Fran, the feeling is mutual," Coffee commented with somewhat of a smile playing on his full lips, his voice slightly hoarse. That was another thing about the dreams. Despite the fact that they felt so real he could talk. "Besides, it wasn't even me who killed you."

Franklin wiped the neverending streak of blood off the bridge of his nose. "I'm not saying anything."

"You're all so goddamn immature," Henry commented cheerfully and leaned against Coffee. The ghost's soaking wet sweater left a damp spot on his T-shirt. "Anyway, good question Fran, Cof, why the sour face?"

"I just can't figure out our current case...", Coffee mumbled. "I mean... usually I have at least some degree of awareness of what's going on, but this time..."

"Well... what is it?", Henry asked. There was a dark blue bruise on his left cheek and his eye was reddened. Almost a year had passed, but he still looked the way he had when he'd died.

Coffee groaned and leaned his back against the rusty fire hydrant behind them. "There's a serial killer on the loose in Forest Lane... we've got this suspect, Wesley, but... I don't think he could've done that. But then again...all evidence points towards him. So it's kinda confusing and I don't like this at all."

"Okay, consider your experience." Franklin leaned back and wiped the blood off the bridge of his pointy freckled nose. "Think about it. You're not sure whether that Wesley guy and the killer are the same person. When was the last time a similar situation happened?"

Coffee chewed his lip. "I... I'm not su-"

"When I was trying to convince Violet I'm you, exactly." Franklin nodded. "And what happened to make her realize I was, in fact, absolutely not you?"

Coffee shrugged his narrow shoulders. "You shot me."

Franklin sharply inhaled through his gapped teeth. "Yeah, that's close to what I..."

"She saw both of you in the same room," Henry interrupted. He glanced at Franklin, his dark grey eyes sparkling a little. "That's what you mean, isn't it?"

"Absolutely," Franklin confirmed.

Coffee frowned. "So what you're saying is...?"

"Bring them into the same room." Franklin turned his head and stared into his eyes.

"But how? It's not like I can ask the killer to come over for tea."

Henry shrugged his narrow shoulders. "It's simple. Use a bait."

Coffee's pulse suddenly spiked and he hastily shook his head. "No. I can't let it go wrong again."

"But this time it's different." Henry slid closer to him and put an ice cold hand on his shoulder. "This time you can have a bigger group for safety. Coffee, you don't have to do all the dangerous stuff alone. It's not you against the world."

"I can't risk anyone," he admitted. "I don't want to put any of them into that danger. Walther, Doc? I've known Doc since I was a kid. Walther is barely twenty. October? He can't defend himself out there. Thasfield? I don't want to put him through even more trauma. And Violet? She's pregnant. She's carrying my child. I can't risk that, I won't risk that, I'd rather see the world die than her."

"I'm not forcing anything." Franklin tilted his head, then immediately started cussing and wiping the blood out of his eye. "Fuck...!"

Henry watched with an amused smirk on his bloodstained lips. Then he turned to Coffee.

"Don't worry." He smiled. One of his front teeth had cracked off. "Try to find a potential victim, someone who has something to do with the others. And then protect em. Get a big group together, all the team and all your friends. It'll be okay." He winked. "I promise."

[devinescribe]

Games

Chapter 7 to '100 Promises'

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Warnings: Swearing, violence, bullying, blood, I think that's it, but as always feel free to tell me if I missed any.

"I finally got contact lenses. I think they'll be better than my glasses. I mean, yeah, I'll probably still use them, but it's... nevermind, what do you think?" He rambled, a dorky smile on his face. "If it'll make you happy, then you look great," you said, smiling, honestly meaning your words. "I'm asking for your opinion woman, stop giving me the 'if it makes you happy' bullshit. Give me your opinion," he stated, shaking your shoulders."It looks good! I'm not used to seeing you without your glasses, but you look good!" You laughed, your words coming out in a vibrato of sorts from him shaking you. "I'm glad you think so."

"Dear gods my hair is getting long..." he muttered, running his hands through his hair, staring at himself in the bathroom mirror. "I think it looks good," you commented, passing by the bathroom with a laundry basket. "Really? I think I kind of like it too..."

"And how much does it hurt?" He questioned. "Not that much, or so I've heard. Plus, we're getting it at the same time, so... no backing out, or I'll cut your hair," you threatened, your hold on his hand tightening a bit. "No, don't you dare. And I won't back out," he said as you dragged him into the shop. (The fact I've been threatened with that-)

"I somehow can't believe we looked like that!" You laughed, pointing at the photo on your phone. It was from high school, and you were both laughing at how dorky you both looked. "Oh gods... actually, I was kind of hot," you said, giggling a bit. "Have we really changed that much?" Niragi questioned. "Well, let's see," you said, opening the camera and telling Niragi to get into frame. He did so, and you both stuck out your tongues, the matching piercings glinting in the light. You snapped the photo, and put it side by side the one from high school. "Wow... that's a big difference, holy shit," he laughed. You snickered, and posted side by side comparison of the the photos. "Yeah. Huge difference."

"Hatter would like to see you... Alone."

You looked back at Ann, and nodded, getting up. "If she's going, I'm going with," Niragi said, getting up himself. "He said he wants to speak to (Y/N) alone. Respect to rules for once please," Ann chided, as you walked to her side. Niragi laughed, finishing with a smirk, "And since when do I listen to the rules?"

You looked back at him with a proud, yet embarrassed face. Definitely not the same Niragi from back in the real world. He was more confident than you last remembered, that was for sure. "Dude, I'll be totally fine. The least they could do is kill me," you said, a bit to nonchalantly for his tastes. "That seems like a worse case scenario, but ok." he responded, "I'm still going with you." "No, you're not. Look, I'll be fine ok? Just wait outside the door," you suggested. He scoffed, but nodded nontheless. Ann stayed quiet, watching this exchange. 'So... is that all it takes to convince him? Really? All we needed was this girl?' Were her thoughts.

"Oh good, you're here!" Hatter exclaimed as soon as you walked in. Ann stayed outside, and shut the doors behind you. You nodded. Was he happy or just extremely charismatic? You didn't know, but whatever it was, it was nice. It made you feel like you were talking to someone you knew. Like the pleasant ladies from your apartment complex. "Well, what do you want to talk about?"

"Where are we?" You asked as you got off the train. "I don't know. Just took a random train. You said you wanted another adventure," he replied. You gasped. "Niragi Suguru, you did not," you said, grabbing onto his hand to make sure you didn't lose him in the large crowd. "I did. And what of it?" He asked, dragging you out. "Oh my gods... Excuse me, sorry to bother you, but which city are we in?" You asked one of the people who worked there. They smiled and answered with, "Shinjuku. Are you lost?"  You shook your head. "No, we'll be fine. Thank you very much!" You said. Niragi dragged you to the exit. "I don't look presentable to be in Shinjuku right now, Niragi," you said, hiding your face. "You always look nice though. And it's called opportunity. I took it, and now we're here. So, let's take advantage of this, yeah?"

Hatter sat you down. "From what Ann and Aguni reported back to me, you're a quick thinker. Great shot apparently. They were both very impressed," he started. You smiled. "I'm honored they felt that way," you said. Hatter chuckled. "Well, Ann said you'd do well in either position of a militant or an executive. And it's just your luck the precious person who held number 7 recently... died. The games, obviously. Before you came here, actually. Maybe it was a sign it was meant to be yours. And, since you've proven yourself useful, I think it's a good idea," Hatter said, rambling a bit. "That's a bit too high for me, isn't it?" You questioned. You had just gotten here, you couldn't possibly be up that high already. "Uh... no. It's not. So, as of today, you shall be a militant," he said dramatically. You laughed, thanking him as he gave you a wristband with the number seven written on the blue tag. You slipped it on your wrist. "Oh, and just so you know, Aguni will most likely take you under his wing. The militants are mostly guys, so be careful. And... uh... your friend can help you find everything. He'll also show you to your new room. That is all. Goodbye now," he said cheerfully. You smiled brightly, thanking him.

You opened the door to leave, seeing Niragi leaning on the wall across the door. You smiled, closing the door softly behind you. "I'm back," you said. He nodded, "I can see that." "Can you really? You have your contact lenses?" You asked, skeptical. He nodded his head. "Surprisingly," he added. "Hmm... and for how many more days do you have them?" You questioned as he led you through the hotel. "Well, I've been in the borderland about 2 and a half weeks-"

"Woah, hold up... you'd been gone for six months up in the real world-"

"Well, I'm starting to think time runs differently in both places. Because no way in hell have I been here 6 months."

"Ok... continue on."

You two talked about whatever came to mind just like you used to. It was like you never skipped a beat. He lead you down into where they kept the weapons. "Only milatants and Hatter are allowed down here. This is the basement, and also where we keep the weapons. So, take your pick," he said, a smirk on his face. "You're a bit to proud of this aren't you?" You asked, looking over the different weapons. "Maybe," he responded. You didn't have to look at him to know he was smirking, you could just hear it in his voice. You picked out a knife that had a strap around. You also picked up a riffle similar to Niragi's, and turned to face him. "Ok, I'm good," you said. "Tomorrow, the militants are heading out on a supply run. Which means you now too. You can wear actual clothes now, isn't that fun?" He joked. You rolled your eyes shoving him playfully. He ran his tongue over his teeth. "That's really how you want to play, huh (L/N)?" He asked. You could hear the tone behind his words. The tone that meant run or your fucked, because whatever game he's scheming will end with you caught. It was quite normal for you two. Playing games with each other was a hobby back in the real world. Didn't matter how childish or immature they were. "Ouch, my last name? That hurts... Suguru." (Is that his last name or his first name? I don't know, I've been treating it as his last name, but I'm probably wrong) You giggled, running off. There was probably tons of places to hide inside the basement, and probably even more places throughout the beach.

"How was last night? Did you have fun?" He teased as soon as you woke up. You rolled your eyes. "Don't even talk to me about last night. Another disappointment," you groaned, rubbing your eyes. "Damn. That bad, huh?" He said, handing you a mug with coffee in it. You took a sip, and smiled. Perfect... He always made really good coffee, and it impressed you. "Yeah... definitely that bad. I heard him leave this morning, let's hope he never comes back," you said. Niragi laughed, taking a sip of his own coffee. The sunlight came in through the sliding glass door of your apartment.  The sky was painted with pinks and purples. Gold dusted the clouds as the sun touched them. It was perfectly picturesque. "One day, we won't have to live in a sucky apartment building, you know? I promise you that one day we'll have... I don't know where do you want to live?" He asked you. You both walked over to the couch, sitting next to eachother. "I don't know... I'd go anywhere as long as I can still have my best friend with me.''

"Come on out, (Y/N). I'll find you sooner or later. We need sleep," he shouted. You stifled a laugh, and crouched down, sneaking around. You could see him looking around for you. You moved backwards, bumping into someone. You slowly turned around. It was the guys Niragi had introduced as 'Last Boss'.

Throughout the day, you had actually had the opportunity to talk to him a bit. More like you talked, while he observed you, occasionally making a sound of sorts to show you he was listening. He'd also answered your questions, so you thought he wouldnt be that bad. You made the quiet signal, putting a finger to your lips. He looked down quizzically. "Playing a game. Can't let him find me. Wanna join?" You whispered to the mysterious man. He nodded slightly, still a bit confused. "Ok, the objective is to not get caught by Niragi. He doesn't know you're playing yet, so I'll figure something out... oh, I got it! You go hide," you whisper shouted, shooing him off. He went to go hide, and you climbed to the top of one of the darker places. "A new player has joined in. One seeker, two hiders!" You shouted. You heard Niragi laugh. "Dumbass! You're letting me know where you are!"  You smirked. That's what you wanted him to think.

"Oh nice! You got his glasses that's 20 points!" The boys shouted. You struggled to get out of the ropes tied your hands together. You heard Niragi groan, and looked up, seeing him on the floor, blood dripping from his nose. "Niragi!" You shouted in worry. He looked over at you, before one of the guys kicked his face into the ground. You struggled against the ropes the boys had tied around your wrist. It dug into your skin, you could feel the skin being rubbed raw from how much you had struggled against them ."So useless without eachother, huh?" One of them taunted. "Stop hurting him!" You yelled, squirming. "Oh? Would you rather we harm you then? You were always such a pretty girl... to bad you decided to defend him," the leader of their little group said, kneeling in front of you. "I don't give a damn if you hurt me. Stop hurting him!' You shouted. "(Y-y/N), don't," Niragi said, before one of the bullies kicked him in the stomach. He winced in pain, screwing his eyes shut. "Stop it! He didn't do anything to you!" You screamed, struggling even more, the ropes creating rope burn on your skin. "It's not a vengeance thing. It's fun," the leader said, grabbing your chin, making you look up at him. You glared at him in disgust, wanting so badly to just hit him, or spit on him in the moment. But you didn't. You didn't because you knew if you did either you or Niragi would get hurt. More likely Niragi, since they knew he was your weakness. "Just like it's fun making girls like you submit," he added with a smirk. "Don't you dare hurt her! Hurt me all you want, but don't touch her!" Niragi yelled. There was confidence in his words, but you also knew how scared he was. You could see it on his face. "That sounds boring though. What if we just make both of you our little puppets for the night, have you both put on a show?'' One of the guys snickered. This was followed by a chorus of 'not a bad idea' and 'sounds interesting.' You looked at Niragi, fear written all over your face.

You ran quietly, and quickly, knowing he could catch up to you. You looked around the dimly lit basement, and saw the exist to go up. Your eyes caught a flash of movement, and someone grabbed you, putting a hand over your mouth. You were shocked at first, going to scream bloody murder, before seeing it was Last Boss. He let you go, and you took a breath. "Oh my gods... dude that was scary," you whispered. He shrugged. "I have a place we can hide. I don't think he's smart enough to find it," He suggested, nodding his head over to Niragi. You stifled a laugh, and nodded, letting him lead you.

"(Y/N)! (Y/N), are you alright?" He worriedly asked, checked on you. You hissed in pain when his hands went over the bruises. "I'm sorry. This is all my fault, if I hadn't-" he started, blaming himself. You grabbed shoulders, and shook your head. "It's not your fault... it's ok," you said, sitting up. The gravel under you poked at the skin exposed from your school skirt. "I-its not ok!" He shouted. "It's... it's not ok. You shouldn't have- I could've-" he started, pulling at his hair. "Niragi. It's not your fault. You didn't... you didn't hurt me," you said, your voice calming. You grabbed his hands, pulling them towards you. You were just kids. Fucking 16 years old(not exactly a kid, but whatever), you shouldn't have to go through this stuff. No kid should. "I should be comforting you, yet here you are, making me feel better. Stop it, you're the one who-"

"Niragi, it happened to both of us. Stop acting like you're ok too."

"But- I'm supposed to... I-"

"Shut up, and come here."

He sighed, sitting besides you. You pulled his head into your lap, and he sighed. "Stop taking care of me. Stop hanging out with me, because you're the one who ends up getting hurt because of me. Please," he pleaded as you ran your fingers through his hair. "No," you responded. "(Y/N), stop being so stubborn! Please, just... just listen to me!" He shouted. You flinched at the sudden loudness. "I- I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you," he apologized, noticing when you flinched. You sighed, leaning back on the concrete wall. You muttered back something along the lines of him not having to apologize. You heard thunder, and saw a flash of lightning. "It's going to rain, we should go home," Niragi said. "Don't wanna... let's stay here?" You muttered, watching the sun get covered by the clouds. You were under a bridge, so you at least had coverage. He looked up at you, and nodded. "Ok. We can," he whispered. The raindrops began to splatter on the ground outside the coverage of the bridge, and you sighed in happiness. Niragi sat up, bringing you close to him. The smell of rain filled your senses, and you couldn't help but enjoy the moment, even if you had been in emotional and physical pain before. Being there helped numb it for a while. Being with him helped numb the feeling.

"Alright... if I were (Y/N)... where would I go?" Niragi muttered to himself, walking around. It was too quiet. You weren't a quiet person unless need be, and if he remembers correctly, which he does, you had a losing streak in hide and seek since high school. You were too giggly to hide in silence, or maybe you got scared by being alone in the dark to long. Whatever it had been, you had a losing streak for almost 8 years. That was not about to change, not if he had a say in it. A part of him said he was not acting like himself, and that playing this with you was childish. Especially in the borderlands. He knew he would have to find you either way, so he stopped caring. He remembered what she had said. A new player has joined in. One seeker, two hiders! 'Ok, process of elimination....'

"So, given the fact Chishiya isn't allowed down here, I think I know who she's with, and where she is. Let's see if I'm right.''

This was more memories than actual current events... oh well- hope you enjoyed, have a wonderful day/night, baii!! Oh yeah, just because this is the only place people have a problem with me posting Niragi stuff, if you don't like it, the block button is right there, don't send me death threats or tell me to go kms. Thank you