#perform beyond frequent

[sprenthecreator]

IMPURITIES EP. 1 | N.Y. State of Mind

Male reader x Yunjin, Chaewon

First chapter of this LSF mini-series.

word count: 8.3k 

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When HYBE made you sign that contract over two years ago, you had no idea that you were going to be managing five wild, unruly girls. If you had known, maybe your signature wouldn't have been on that piece of paper, but at that point in your life, you needed the job; it was either that or starve. Besides, as a frequent K-Pop fan, it really was your dream job, so there weren't many issues with it; it was perfect.

But you never imagined that at your age, you would feel so close to going gray because of the behavior of those girls.

Maybe you were exaggerating and being a little grumpy. After all, they were girls around your age, so you could easily put yourself in their shoes and understand what was going through their heads. However, with all that, there were things that you would never be able to understand in your life simply because you weren't a woman. It might sound sexist, but it was the only explanation you could find.

At first they were little angels, as always happened in such cases; you were a stranger to them, and of course they weren't going to behave like unruly teenagers from day one. But as the days went by—yes, days, not even months—, the ones who seemed to be well-behaved and obedient girls turned out to be a pain in the ass 70% of the time.

To be honest, you couldn't say you didn't love them all. They were unbearable most of the time, but they were also endearing, and you could say you considered them good friends. What other choice did you have? You couldn't be at odds with the girls you would spend seven years of your life with, so there had to be a joint effort on both sides to not make discord the status quo. The results were positive, and even though they continued to do their misdeeds, you had learned to tolerate them for your mental health.

Two years later you were practically a family, having gone through both ups and downs. The emotional journey had been intense and rough, both for you and them. The things you had to deal with were rubbish: tight schedules, physical and mental overload, and most often, tons of hate on social media from out-of-work mentally retarded people. But like the family you had become, you faced each adversity with a firm grip.

And now you were facing the most stressful thing an artist could go through: a damn tour. But not just a tour, also a performance at one of the biggest music festivals in the world, something that even you were terrified of, and if you were terrified, you couldn't even imagine how they felt at what would be one of the most important moments of their careers.

You were all excited, though. The arrival in Los Angeles was smooth and uneventful, both at the airport and later at the hotel. However, things started to go wrong the very next day, at the sound and stage checks for the festival. As a manager, it was your job to absorb the vast majority of those problems so that the girls didn't have to worry, but due to factors beyond your control, it ended up affecting them directly and therefore, it also affected their final performance.

It wasn't a great performance; everyone was disappointed, but you remained strong and encouraging for them to keep them from falling apart, especially in the days to come when social media was at its hate peak and the criticism just kept coming. It was part of your job, but more than a manager, those couple of days you were just a friend to them, and the bonds became even stronger. It was hard to have to get to the point of having to disable all comments on every platform, but it was the best measure you could suggest as a professional who looked after her artists.

Coachella aside, preparations for the rest of the tour were going great. There weren't too many dates due to scheduling issues for the next few months, when the girls would have to start preparing for their next comeback, so you would only visit a few big cities until next year, which is when you would go to Europe as well.

The first stop of the tour was none other than New York, the city where Yunjin had grown up. You had arrived from Los Angeles in the morning, and at noon you were already checking in at the Park Hyatt for your stay for the next three days. The day of arrival was free, then the next was the rehearsal at the venue and the last day was the concert.

"Okay, listen to me everyone," you said, standing in the middle of them with the room cards in hand. You were in the lobby, near one of the many bars in the hotel. "You have a room for each of you, but if you want to share that's your problem," you handed each of them their cards. "If you're going to leave the hotel please notify me or I’ll kill myself and then blame you in your dreams."

"I'm not planning on doing anything today," Sakura said, taking her card. "I'm exhausted and I just want to finish knitting the hat I was making."

"Can you teach me?" Eunchae asked, standing next to Kura and holding onto her arm.

"What, knitting?" Sakura looked at her. Eunchae just nodded with a pair of bright, excited eyes. "Alright, I'll see what I can do."

"I'm playing Overwatch with a friend later," Kazuha said. "So I won't be going out either."

"What friend?" you asked, out of curiosity.

"That's not your problem, why do you want to know?"

You sighed.

"I'm literally just asking."

Chaewon and Yunjin were muttering things to each other, between giggles and knowing glances. You looked at them with a raised eyebrow.

"And what about you two, anything to say?"

They both looked at you with their arms linked, their eyes innocent and their lips pursed to keep from laughing.

"Nope, nothing," Yunjin shook her head.

"You're lying," you looked at Chaewon. "You're going out tonight, aren't you?"

"We already told you no!" she protested. "Why would you distrust us?"

"I can list the reasons and finish tomorrow."

"Oh come on, you're exaggerating," Yunjin patted your chest a couple of times. "We're not going out, really."

"Yeah, we're just going to eat snacks and watch a couple movies," Chaewon nodded.

You narrowed your eyes and looked at both of them for a few seconds. Suspicious, too suspicious. You weren't sure if they were really going out, but they were up to something, that much was obvious.

"Fine, I'll choose to believe you," you said. "Now go, I have a meeting with the venue staff and I can't be late."

The girls went to their rooms, and you asked one of your assistants to take your luggage to yours. The meeting was an hour long, but you had to be there at least twenty minutes early, so you hurried out of the hotel to the venue, to arrange everything related to the logistics of tomorrow and the day of the concert.

The meeting in question started at 1 in the afternoon and ended at 4. Then you and part of your team went to lunch, and at around 7 you were back at the hotel. Your day was not over yet, but the rest of your work could be done calmly from the comfort of your room.

Upon going up and entering your room you went straight to take a shower, then put your laptop on the desk next to the hallway and got to work, with headphones on and a can of Monster that you had bought during lunch.

Your inbox was full, and you were a bit of a workaholic, so you immediately locked in and got going. In these situations you always lost track of time, which was pretty unhealthy but you couldn't help it no matter how hard you tried. But you had to admit that this time you had gone too far, because it was 3 in the fucking morning.

There were still some things to attend to, but it was time to draw the line and set a limit, because otherwise you would end up seeing the sunrise when the next day you should be in full physical and mental prime. So you closed your laptop, rubbed your eyes and took off your headphones before standing up.

Whenever you went to sleep after sitting for a long time you had the habit of taking a walk to stretch your legs, and since there was no space in your room to do it comfortably, you opted for the hotel hallways. So you grabbed your phone, a small jar of M&M's, and left the room.

As expected, the hallways at that hour were deserted. To other people it would have seemed spooky, but to you it was relaxing for the simple fact that no noise pollution of any kind reached your ears, just the sound of the ventilation and the videos you occasionally watched on Twitter at low volume.

But soon you were no longer alone. Just as you reached the elevator to turn around and go back to your room, the elevator dinged and the doors swung wide open.

What you didn't expect was that the ones coming out of there would be two hot girls in cocktail mini dresses and high heels, and that...

Wait a fucking minute.

"Oh this has to be a fucking joke," you sighed, bringing your hands up to your face to lift your head and run both through your hair.

"M-Manager-nim, uhm, we can explain!" Chaewon hurried to say, exiting the elevator with Yunjin.

“Don’t talk to me,” you said, holding up a finger. You didn’t want to know anything, so you turned around and started walking back to your room.

“No, wait!” Yunjin said, chasing after you. “Where are you going? U-Uh… What are you going to do?”

“I said don’t talk to me,” you replied, looking ahead. The two of them walked behind you, right behind your shoulders. “I’ll report you to HYBE so you can get into trouble.”

"No! Please don't!" Chaewon pleaded, shaking your arm slightly. "No no no! We're sorry!"

"It was my idea!" Yunjin snapped. "It's just that if we told you what we were going to do, you wouldn't let us!"

"I wonder why," you said. "I can smell the alcohol coming off of you two."

"We're not even drunk!" Chaewon said. "I swear! Please forgive us!"

"I don't care, you crossed the line," you shook your head. "It would have been easier if you had just been honest with me from the start."

"So you refused to let us out?" Yunjin asked, defiant. "It was easier to just sneak out and be done with it! And besides, what the hell are you doing up at this hour?"

"Managing your reckless ass and looking out for your future. But I see you don't care about that."

At that moment you arrived in front of your door, but before you could put your hand on the knob, Chaewon stepped in between to stop you. Your bodies were very close, and only then did you pay attention to how she was dressed. It was a short, tight black dress, with a considerable neckline and long sleeves that went from her shoulders to cover her hands. She looked so hot in it that it distracted you for a moment, but not enough to forget your mission.

“Kim Chaewon, step aside,” you demanded.

“Aniyo,” she shook her head.

“Oh come on, manager-nim,” you heard Yunjin say quietly behind you, close to your ear. She put her hands on your shoulders and squeezed them gently. “Why don’t you relax a little?”

“Don’t tell me to relax when you guys lied to me so blatantly,” you replied, still looking at Chaewon. “Get out of the way.”

Chaewon glanced at Yunjin over your shoulder and showed a hint of a smile, before stepping away from your door and closing the small distance between you.

“We already told you we were sorry, manager-nim,” Chaewon said, placing a hand on your chest. You felt her breath against yours. “There’s no need to be so grumpy.”

She very subtly pressed her body tight against yours, looking into your eyes with slightly parted lips. You knew perfectly well her intentions because you were no fool, and you wanted to respectfully push her away and enter your room, but a stronger part of you kept your feet rooted there.

“Chaewon-ah…” you sighed, trying to change her mind.

Yunjin pressed herself against you as well, making you feel her chest against your back. She wrapped one arm around your abdomen and slipped the other hand into the left pocket of your sweatpants.

"Why don't you come with us to the pool so you can reconsider this whole thing?" the redhead asked in your ear.

"Yeah, I think all those emails have saturated your mind," Chaewon said, wrapping her arms around your neck. One hand stayed on your shoulder and the other went up to ruffle your hair. "Let us help you clear your head a little."

Before you could say anything, Yunjin lowered her hand from your abdomen and brought it to your bulge, just rubbing it up and down with her palm. Then any desire you had to go to your room and write that email vanished. Still, you didn't want to get too proactive just yet, you wanted to keep some of your dignity and see how far they would take it.

"So? What do you say?" Yunjin insisted, slowly making you hard. "You coming with us?"

Again the words got caught in your mouth when Chaewon suddenly pulled you into a kiss. Everything happened too fast for you to resist, and before you knew it you were wrapped up in a sensual kiss with her, your hands on that small sexy waist. Yunjin was now massaging your already hard cock, her head on the side of yours as she watched you and Chaewon kiss. That was what finally got you into the whole deal.

“You know this is wrong, right?” you asked against Chaewon’s lips, and you turned around to face Yunjin, who thanks to her heels was just as tall as you. Her dress was even shorter than Chaewon’s: burgundy velvet, strapless and an A-line skirt, perfect for showing off that perfect pair of legs. “Not only because I’m your manager, but because you have a sound check later.”

Yunjin put a hand on your shoulder and pressed herself against you. You instinctively wrapped one arm around her waist to hold her. It should have put you off by the fact that you'd never touched her like that in two years, but fuck, you were two people almost the same age, and she was a hot girl; you weren't going to miss that golden opportunity no matter how upset you were with the two of them.

"I've been on more important errands on less sleep, honey," she said, running the tip of her tongue along the side of her upper lip. Her hand still playing with your cock over your sweatpants. "So I don't care."

"Yeah, I know you don't care," you said before kissing her.

Yunjin had probably the most attractive lips you had ever seen, and it didn't surprise you that she knew how to use them so well in a kiss. Your heads went from side to side, as you tasted each other's lips and filled the hallway with wet sounds. Her hand squeezed your bulge and rubbed the outline of your cock, and you just lowered your hand from her waist to her left ass cheek and left it there.

"Hey, hurry up," Chaewon said from behind you. She had you by the waist, giving you little kisses on the back of your neck. "I want to cool off in the pool."

Yunjin pulled away from your lips and looked at Chaewon over your shoulder.

"You and I both know that's not what you want," she said with a giggle, and looked at you. "You're in then?"

"You guys dragged me in," you corrected her. "And I already have my hand on your ass. Now I have no choice."

"Then let's go!" Chaewon said, and she moved out from between you and the door to walk towards the elevator.

Yunjin gave you a couple more small kisses and took your hand to lead you to follow Chaewon. Once inside the elevator, she cornered you against the back wall and kissed you again with her hands on your neck. You returned the kiss, taking her by the waist. A few seconds later Chaewon stood to your left, and you moved away from Yunjin's lips to grab the blonde by the face and crash your lips against hers.

The floor where the pool wasn’t too high, so the kiss didn't last long. Once the elevator doors opened, the three of you walked out to a small hall before the pool area on the left. Behind the counter was only a girl who worked at the hotel. She looked up from her phone and watched you walk towards her.

"Oh, sorry, the pool is closed guys," the girl said.

"Yeah honey, we know," Yunjin said ahead, going to lean against the counter with her purse on the top. From there she pulled out five $100 bills and slid them towards the girl. "Why don't you go take a break for an hour and let us keep watch? Oh, and leave us three towels please."

The girl stared at the bills for a few long seconds until she reluctantly took them.

"You better not make a mess and not make any noise," she warned, pulling the towels out from behind the counter for you. "Because you'll get me in trouble."

"You don't have to worry, sweetheart," Yunjin said as the girl got up from her chair and walked around the counter. "We'll be ghosts."

"Just hurry up," the girl reiterated, going to take the elevator.

As the girl waited for the elevator, Yunjin led you and Chaewon by the hand towards the beautiful pool area. The first thing that stood out to you was the huge wall of windows right in front of your eyes, and the series of cube-shaped pendant lights that hung from the high ceiling and ran from one end of the pool to the other. But the overall atmosphere was modern and intimate, with the white lights of both the pool and the lower ceiling area where you were at a dim level, making a gorgeous combination with the gray matte porcelain floor and the marble walls and pillars.

Yunjin went to leave the towels on the chairs to the right, in a small raised area with white light below that had a few lounge chairs; she left the towels piled on one of them and went with Chaewon to the pool, which was L-shaped with the bottom cut out. They approached the stairs, took off their heels and dipped their feet in the water to stand on the first step.

"Oh god, the water is freezing," Chaewon said with a giggle, while Yunjin pulled her hair up into a high bun.

"It's perfect for washing down the alcohol, whatever," Yunjin said, then turned to look at you. "Ready for a little show?"

"At this point I won't be surprised by anything you two do," you replied from the raised area, arms crossed.

False. You wish you hadn't said that so you wouldn't look like a fool, as Chaewon and Yunjin both pulled their dresses up over their breasts, quite efficiently tucking the skirts at the neckline so that it held up like a top. This revealed both pairs of delicious bodies to you, as the only thing they were wearing were their respective panties. Chaewon's were white, thong-like ones. And Yunjin's were high-waisted black cheeky ones.

"What happened, manager-nim?" Chaewon asked with a giggle, seeing how you were stunned by their half naked bodies. "I thought nothing would surprise you."

"Yeah, well..." you couldn't find anything to say, and you definitely couldn't stop staring at them.

Yunjin and Chaewon laughed and went together into the pool, which was the perfect height for the three of you. While Chaewon's was shoulder-high, Yunjin's was just below her breasts. You went with them as they swam to the long end of the pool, rolling your sweatpants up to your knees, taking off your slippers, and sitting on the edge with your feet in the water.

"Huh? What are you doing there?" Yunjin asked, swimming to your feet. Chaewon swam backwards behind her, careful not to get her hair too wet. "Aren't you coming with us?" She grabbed your ankles, and you felt it as a warning.

"Uhm, I'm actually freezing," you replied, trying to get out of the situation. "I could catch a cold and die."

"Why worry about the cold when we can keep you warm down here?" Yunjin insisted, stroking your calves up and down. “Or did you forget why you came with us in the first place?”

Yunjin moved one of her hands up your calf to your crotch to meet your newly formed erection because of them. She squeezed it between her fingers and massaged it. 

You sighed.

“Are you really going to make me enter those Antarctic waters?” you asked, tilting your head.

“Oh yeah,” she nodded, biting her lip. “Unless you don’t want to get wet with us.”

“Some emotional blackmail you put on, woman,” you shook your head, and reluctantly stood up to take off your hoodie and sweatpants. Now in your boxers, you sat back down on the edge of the pool and slid in.

You gritted your teeth, tensed your body, and closed your eyes to keep from complaining, because the water was so cold that you felt it soak into your bones and freeze them. Yunjin immediately hugged you, both her arms and legs wrapped around your torso. You hugged her back, delighted to be able to feel that delicious body and that soft skin under your fingers.

"I know, I know..." Yunjin murmured, seeing that you were having a hard time with the water temperature. She made sure to be pressed against you, with as much skin as possible against yours. "Let me warm you up, manager-nim," she gave you a soft kiss. "Although I know a way to warm you up even more."

Chaewon swam to your back and hugged you and Yunjin at the same time, her chin resting on your left shoulder.

"And what way would that be?" You asked, already feeling more relieved to be in the middle of that sandwich. Your hands moved down from her waist to her buttocks, giving them a light squeeze and rubbing them up and down.

"Don't play dumb, manager-nim," Chaewon said in your ear, and slipped a hand between your body and Yunjin's to bring it inside your boxers. She grabbed your cock and held it between her fingers. "You know the answer, so you're going to say it."

"Yeah, but we know you well, and we know you won't say it that easily," Yunjin said. "So we're going to make you say it."

You chuckled.

"Are you going to drown me in the pool every time I refuse or what?"

Chaewon's response was to yank your boxers down, releasing your throbbing cock under the water. She wrapped her fingers around it, and slowly began to masturbate you. You gasped, and Yunjin smirked, unwrapping her legs from around your torso to press herself against the side of your body, leaving room for Chaewon to comfortably move her hand.

“Tell me something, manager-nim,” Chaewon murmured, giving you pecks on the side of your neck and then catching your earlobe between her lips. “In these two years, have you ever masturbated thinking about us?”

The question left you as cold as the pool water did when you got in, and your well-known answer made you blush. They were four of the stupidest hottest girls you had ever seen in your life, and they were all recently at their peak of hotness; it had to happen sooner or later for you.

“I...” you took a deep breath, trying not to look Yunjin in the eyes out of embarrassment.

“You have, huh?” Yunjin said, her gaze fixed on you. She held onto your shoulders with one arm while rubbing your abdomen with the other. "You don't have to be ashamed... it's not like we blame you. I've been given outfits that leave little to the imagination."

"How did you imagine us, manager nim?" Chaewon asked in a sexy murmur, still moving her hand on your cock. "Doggy style? From behind against the wall? Us riding you?"

"Or maybe sucking your cock?" Yunjin said, to spread kisses on your cheek near your lips. "Did you imagine my pretty lips around it?"

"I'm sure you also imagined yourself pounding my tight pussy," Chaewon said, moving her hand faster. Yunjin replaced it a couple seconds later.

"Or me jumping on your cock," the redhead said, jerking you off at a fast, steady pace. "Come on, don't be shy, manager-nim. Tell us."

"Please, manager-nim," Chaewon moaned into your ear, massaging your balls before replacing Yunjin's hand with her own. "We want to know."

You would have loved to be able to say something, but Chaewon was moving her hand so well on your cock that you were lost in the limbo of the physical and spiritual realm. You were brought out of your trance by her abruptly stopping her hand from moving.

"Ugh, no!" you whined, clenching your fists. Yunjin and Chaewon giggled.

"Then answer," Yunjin said, circling your tip with her index finger. "Have you masturbated to us or not?"

"Fuck, yes," you huffed. "More times than I'd like to admit."

Yunjin was the one in charge of grabbing your cock again and resuming the handjob, now faster.

"See? It wasn't that hard," Yunjin said with a giggle.

"You're such a pervert, manager-nim," Chaewon said, kissing your neck, while her hands roamed your chest. "Why don't we go outside and let us finish the work? Then maybe we can fulfill some of your little fantasies."

"What if the worker comes?" you said between gasps, since Yunjin was still jerking you off. "I don't want to get kicked out of the hotel with two days left here in New York."

"It's only been 10 minutes," Yunjin said, and let go of your cock. "We've got a good while left to have some fun."

"Then hurry up and get out," you said, trying to get out of the way of the two of them.

Chaewon and Yunjin stepped away from you and swam towards the pool stairs. You followed close behind. As you climbed out of the water you took the lead, heading straight to the small raised area near the exit to grab a towel and dry yourself off as much as you could, having to remove your boxers so as not to wet the lounge chair once you lay down on it. The girls certainly didn't mind, in fact they followed your lead and removed their panties, keeping their dresses bunched up around their chests.

They knelt on their lounge chairs facing you, and bent forward to bring their faces close to your cock, giving you a hot view of their arched backs and wonderfully raised cakes. You weren't shy at all, and as they peppered each side of your shaft with kisses and licks, you groped and squeezed their ass cheeks.

"Fuck, you have a very juicy cock, manager-nim," Chaewon panted, one hand on your thigh and the other around the base of your cock.

"I always knew he was packed," Yunjin said, stroking your cock from the middle up. You looked at her with a frown. "I should have seduced him earlier; now I see I had it pretty easy."

"Are you calling me a slut?" you asked between gasps, making them laugh.

"Considering how quickly you gave in," she shrugged and pondered the answer for a moment. "Yes."

Before you could answer Chaewon took you into her mouth, slowly pumping her head for a few inches and making you gasp. Yunjin joined in by using her tongue on your base and balls. You leaned forward a little, so you could extend your arms further and get your fingers between their ass cheeks and finger their pussies.

Chaewon moaned around your cock, quickly taking as much of your length into her small mouth as she could to pump faster and faster. A few seconds later she pulled out, giving way to Yunjin's perfect lips, which wrapped around your tip and went halfway down before coming back, in a pace that soon became fast and messy.

You rubbed your fingers between their soft and already wet folds as you watched Chaewon give you a sloppy blowjob, in aid of Yunjin's tongue and lips on the rest of your shaft. You didn't want to cum too fast to prolong that experience as much as possible, so you looked up and left your gaze on the cube-shaped lamps while you gasped.

But as hard as you were trying, Chaewon and Yunjin forced you to watch as they both slurped the saliva they themselves left on your cock, over and over again in a toe curling double blowjob that had you moaning like the slut Yunjin said you were. A few long seconds passed, until you couldn't control it, and you came as they were making out with your tip in the middle.

"Oh god!" You moaned, watching as Yunjin and Chaewon were still kissing each other even as your cum poured out in thick rivers and stained their tongues and mouths. They lapped up every drop, glad to swallow as much of your load as they could before using their mouths to get your cock clean and shiny again.

You didn't wait for either of them to say anything before you got up from your chair and went to kneel on the floor behind Chaewon, grabbing her firm ass cheeks and planting your face between them.

"Oh fuck!" she moaned in a small start, feeling your tongue move up and down her folds. "You were hungry for it weren't you?"

"You have no idea how much," you replied, squeezing her ass cheeks and eating her pussy like deep down you always wanted to do.

Within a few seconds Chaewon let her moans flow, soon drowned out by a kiss against Yunjin's lips. You devoured that tight pussy with devotion, with the sole goal of making her feel as good as she had made you feel just a couple of minutes ago. She let you know you were doing a good job by twisting her hips and pushing them back, urging you to keep going until you made her cum.

Her climax came not long after, thanks to the quick licks you gave to her clit and the intense way you groped her ass. She fell back with her hands braced against the chair Yunjin was on, writhing between cute moans and spasms.

“My god!” Chaewon groaned as you licked and kissed between her folds. “Why did you never say I was this good at eating pussy?!”

“I remind you that I’m your manager, Kim Chaewon,” you said, and stood up to spank her. An intrusive thought you let win. “I don’t think it would have been appropriate to tell you two days after your debut.”

“Ugh why now we women are the ones who have to make the first move!” she whined, now lying on her side to look at you with that adorable, usual expression she made when she got angry.

"I wasn't going to risk my career on whether you wanted cock or not. Don't be a bitch," you said, and walked around the front of the chairs to climb onto Yunjin's, who immediately hugged you by the neck and kissed you, pressing your torsos together and making your cock rub against her lower abdomen.

After a few seconds of making out with Yunjin you grabbed her by the thighs and made her sit down, with her back against the slanted back of the chair. You sat on the lower edge with your knees resting on the floor, leaning forward and bringing your mouth directly to Yunjin's pussy.

"Oh fuck yeah," Yunjin moaned, one hand on your head as you ate her out. "I should sneak around more often if this is the result."

"Don't push your fucking luck," you muttered, making her laugh. "If you want me to eat your pussy you just have to ask me nicely."

Yunjin moaned as you reached her clit and sucked gently on it.

"Mmmgh, really?" she asked, arching her back a little.

You smiled.

"Yeah, just fax me and get in line."

"Son of a bitch!" Yunjin squealed in annoyance and pulled at your hair, but her anger didn't last long as it didn't stop you from trying to give her the best pussy eating of her life.

Yunjin relaxed in the chair, leaning back and with her legs wide open to let you work. As the seconds passed she became more restless: she arched her back, tugged at your hair and breathed more heavily, until she ended up enclosing your head between her thighs. The grip was strong, with her calves crossed on your back, and you felt your head about to explode, but that was just like coal to your boiler.

"Fuck! Mmmgh!" Yunjin moaned, fingers clenching in your hair as you attacked her pussy mercilessly. “Right there manager-nim, yes, yes!”

Seconds later Yunjin exploded in your mouth, lifting her pelvis and holding onto your head with both hands. She bucked in her chair, moaning maybe a little too loudly, so you reached up and covered her mouth with your hand as her orgasm passed. When it did, she released your head and you pulled away from her pussy.

“Let’s go to my room right now,” you said, standing up to go get your clothes.

“What, why?” Chaewon asked. “We still have like half an hour.”

“If I fuck you guys the way I want to I’ll lose track of time,” you replied, picking up your sweatpants to put them on without your boxers as they were still wet. “And I don’t want the worker to come and find us in the middle of intercourse.”

"Yeah, that's fair," Chaewon said, and stood up to grab a towel and wrap it around her waist.

Once you were dressed you went to help Yunjin stand up and do the same as Chaewon did. You then grabbed all the wet underwear, wrung it out in a corner and carried it in your hand as the three of you left the pool area heading for the elevator. Upon reaching your floor you rushed to your room, and once inside, the two of them removed both their towels and what was left of their dresses from their bodies to jump into bed.

You stripped down at lightning speed and climbed into bed with them. Chaewon greeted you with her legs spread as you climbed on top of her to kiss her, wrapping her arms and legs around you. Yunjin settled on the left side next to Chaewon, and reached between your bodies to reach for your cock and stroke it; she had it hard in a moment, and without either of you asking, she took it inside Chaewon's pussy.

Chaewon squealed, and bit your lip unintentionally in shock. She dug her nails into your scalp, slightly tense as your cock forced its way between the tight walls of her pussy. You continued to kiss her, stifling moans of satisfaction until you finished with your entire length inside her.

"Mmmgh, manager-nim?" Chaewon moaned against your lips.

"Yes?" you gasped.

"Next time be a little bolder and ask me," she panted, stroking the hair on the back of your neck. "I can't believe I'm finding this out two years later."

"Or I could just sneak into your room and fuck you like the whore you are every chance I get," you replied in a sarcastic tone, beginning to move slowly.

"Oh, would you do that?" Chaewon asked with a giggle.

"Jeez, you're hopeless," you shook your head, moving from her lips to her neck to kiss it.

"You can always pretend you have an emergency and woosh! Catch him," Yunjin said from your left, kissing the other side of Chaewon's neck.

"Great Jennifer, give her ideas," you said between gasps, enjoying the way that tight pussy suffocated your cock every time it went inside. "As if I don't have enough with all the shit you two do on a daily basis already."

"You're overreacting, manager-nim," Chaewon moaned, tightening her grip on your torso, hands now on your neck. "We're not that unruly. But you made a big mistake, because now we're really gonna be bad bitches for this cock."

Mother of god, where the fuck have you gotten yourself into?

You forced Chaewon to release your torso and straightened your back to put her legs open, one over Yunjin, and with your hands on her thighs you began to go harder and harder. Chaewon sought out Yunjin's lips, and the two of them shared a steamy, sexy kiss as you fucked her pussy and made her moan against the redhead's lips.

Yunjin played with Chaewon's perky tits, pinching her nipples and massaging her mounds in the process, then moving her hand down her abdomen and to her pussy to rub her clit in quick circles. Chaewon pulled away from Yunjin's lips and arched her back, holding Yunjin's head with one arm and clutching a pillow over her head with the other.

"Does that feel good, Chaewonie?" Yunjin asked, bringing her mouth closer to one of Chaewon's tits to suck on it, circling her clit faster. You thrust harder, pounding that pussy between moans and with your fingers digging into her thighs.

"It's the best cock I've ever had in my fucking life!" Chaewon moaned, her mouth parted and her eyes fixed on you. "Please don't stop!"

Yunjin focused on licking Chaewon's nipple and moving her fingers faster, while you leaned forward a little just so you could thrust faster. Chaewon started moaning so loud that the very pillow she was clinging to became her muzzle, which she bit down on before covering her face with. An instant later she uncovered her face and exploded with a squeal, squeezing your cock as her orgasm made her shudder.

"Mmmm that's so fucking hot," Yunjin groaned, and got on her hands and knees beside Chaewon to reach over to her crotch, pulling your cock out of her pussy and bringing it into her mouth to suck on it for a few seconds. "You want me to ride you?" she asked.

"Who wouldn't want to be ridden by you?" you asked, and she smiled slowly stroking your cock.

"Wow, you're getting more and more points every time," she giggled. "This was quite a triple."

Yunjin made room for you to lay down in her spot with your head on the pillow. Already settled she straddled you, her pussy pressed against the back of your cock. She made eye contact with you as she untied her hair, and as she let it go she placed her hands on your chest and slowly ground her hips back and forth to rub your intimacies together.

"Are you gonna keep teasing me, Jennifer?" you asked with your hands on her thighs, looking into her eyes.

"Why? Are you desperate to be inside me, manager-nim?" she asked back and bent over you, running her hands up to cup your face. You brought your hands to her waist and then to her ass to squeeze it. "I think you want it even more than I do."

"You better shut the fuck up," you said, and reached for your cock to press it between Yunjin's folds. She giggled, and cooperated by slowly lowering her hips until she was fully impaled on your shaft.

"Oh god this feels better than I expected," Yunjin moaned with her ass resting on your pelvis and her hands on your shoulders. "I hope you know you just created a monster."

"I remind you again that I'm your manager, woman," you panted as she began to move up and down. "You're playing with fire and you might burn me by accident."

"Don't be like that, baby," she panted, giving you small kisses as she moved gradually harder. You had her red hair all over your face, but that and you groping her ass only made it hotter. "No one has to find out, right? It'll be our little secret."

“As you wish,” you replied, squeezing her ass cheeks before dropping your hands to the sides of her lower back. “But if it starts to affect your career or mine I will turn you off immediately.”

“Deal,” Yunjin said with a smirk, and crashed her lips against yours before going wild.

Yunjin grabbed your face and stuck her tongue inside your mouth, seeking to take control of the kiss. You happily gave in, content to let her do whatever she wanted with you as long as she kept moving on your cock, with those hip movements that were slow, deep, and deadly. After a few seconds she moved to your neck, to fill it with sucks, kisses, and finally biting you. She cried out when you spanked her with both hands, which prompted her to move faster and with less control.

"Hey, don't even think about leaving me out," you heard Chaewon say on the left, and she somewhat roughly pushed Yunjin off your chest to climb on top of you and sit on your face with her calves on your arms.

With your view now blocked by Chaewon's ass you had no choice but to adapt to the situation and put your mouth and hands to work. She pushed her hips back, smothering you between her perfect ass cheeks, which you held onto to spread  them and allow yourself to breathe while you ate her pussy.

"Can't you stop seeking attention for five minutes?" Yunjin asked Chaewon, planting her feet on the mattress to squat on your cock, fast and hard. "Oh god I was riding him so good!"

"And now you're bouncing on his cock," Chaewon replied between moans, her hands on your chest. You could hear her sharing sloppy kisses with Yunjin. "What's the fucking difference?"

“That I like looking into guys' eyes while I ride them!” Yunjin protested, moaning louder and louder as she bounced faster on your cock.

Chaewon didn’t say anything else as the two of them began to kiss and muffle their moans against each other’s lips until Yunjin came, grinding her hips with your cock buried deep in her pussy and shaking on top of you. Her orgasm having passed, Yunjin climbed off you and collapsed to the side. Chaewon then raised her hips and knelt beside your head.

“Manager-nim,” Chaewon told you as you sat up, staring at you with those puppy subby eyes. “You’re not going to tell HYBE anything about us sneaking out tonight, are you?”

You looked at her with a poker face.

"What kind of dishonest man do you take me for? Of course not," you replied, brushing a lock of sweaty blonde hair from her cheek. "Next time just tell me and I'll go with you."

Chaewon's eyes lit up like two cute lanterns.

"Really?"

"Aha," you nodded. "Only if you're a good girl and get on your hands and knees for me."

Chaewon complied with the order and turned around to bend forward and rest her hands on the mattress, knees apart and ass raised high for you. You positioned yourself behind her, and with one hand on her waist you went back inside the tightest pussy you'd ever been in. She looked at you over her shoulder and hugged the same pillow from a moment ago tightly, biting it the moment you started to thrust.

The view you had was perfect, and enviable to the you of a few months ago, who could only access it through a very lucky wet dream. But now it was for real: you had a hot view of Kim Chaewon, with that appetizing ass that looked small but whose shape was perfect, and that milky attractive back that had you salivating since the Smart stages.

"Go hard, honey," Chaewon moaned, still looking at you. "Please forget your position and fuck me like I'm all yours."

"Oh, if you insist that much," you nodded slowly, and let out a spank so hard that the shape of your hand was instantly marked in red. Chaewon squealed into the pillow. You then started going really hard on her, making the sound of her ass slapping against your pelvis reverberate through your room.

"Fuck! Just like that!" Chaewon squealed, and buried her face into the pillow. You gave her another spank to make her scream. "Fuck!! More!" another spank. "MORE!!"

One more spank, and this time you grabbed a handful of her blonde hair and pulled it back, in turn separating Chaewon's face from the pillow. Now her moans were fully audible as you pounded her pussy like she was a human fleshlight.

Yunjin had already recovered, and without asking Chaewon's permission, she did her best to get under her and stack their pussies together. Before the baby tiger could protest, Yunjin began kissing every corner of her face and neck to make her melt quite efficiently, as Chaewon was still entirely focused on you and your cock.

"God you are such a pillow slut," Yunjin teased Chaewon, grabbing her ass cheeks and spanking her in the same spots as you. "A little more and you'll be calling him daddy."

"Stop giving her ideas, Jennifer!" you growled through clenched teeth at how good Chaewon's pussy felt in that position.

"I'm gonna cum daddy! Mmmgh fuck!!" Chaewon squealed, burying her face in Yunjin's neck.

"Late," Yunjin laughed looking at you. You just shook your head. "It's your fault for falling into our trap."

"Listen here you little piece of..." you said, being interrupted by Chaewon's orgasm and cute whimpers. You placed a hand on her lower back, fucking her slowly until her body stopped shaking. Then you pulled out of her pussy to switch directly to Yunjin's.

"Hey!" Yunjin squealed when you got balls deep inside her again. "Warn me!"

"For what?" you raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure you got down there because you were desperate for me to be inside you again."

Yunjin blushed and rolled her eyes, which was enough to prove you right. You smiled, and grabbed her thighs to press them against Chaewon's. With her, you took off at full speed from the start, already in search of your own climax, which was only getting closer by leaps and bounds.

Yunjin clung to Chaewon with her arms around her neck, moaning in her ear as you hammered her pussy even harder than Chaewon. Sweat was already pouring down your temples, proof that you were giving it your all when you were already exhausted after so many hours of work. It was definitely worth it, because just like Chaewon's, Yunjin's pussy felt so good that it made you use energy reserves you didn't even know you had.

But what kept you going at your best wasn't that, it was the possibility of seeing those two girls go crazy with pleasure thanks to you, and Yunjin's face being fucked mercilessly was like an expensive piece of art in the Louvre museum, especially when a couple of minutes later she came for the second time on your cock.

"Dear fucking lord please cum honey!" Yunjin screamed as you fucked her like an animal through her orgasm. "Oh my god cum!!"

Seconds later, when you felt yourself about to explode, you quickly pulled yourself out of her and went to kneel right next to both of their heads. They both turned their faces towards you, and stuck their tongues out as you stroked your cock rapidly, until with a loud moan you exploded.

The thick strings of cum came out in strong jets and landed on both of their angelic faces, every corner being painted white and getting sticky. What fell on Chaewon's face spilled onto Yunjin's, who collected most of the drops in a pool on her tongue. By the time your climax passed those two were a mess, so covered in cum that Chaewon kept one eye closed and Yunjin had her lips stuffed.

"Oh my god..." you gasped, mesmerized by the sight. "Stay there."

Even though you felt on the verge of collapse, your protective manager instinct kicked in and you were forced to go to the bathroom to get some toilet paper and help them clean themselves up. But as you did so, you realized something that you hadn't realized in all the fuss, something that left you staring into space.

Sakura's room was right next door.

Shit.

[astrologydray]

Ruler of the 9th through the houses

The 9th house is expansion, belief, wisdom, and the journey of becoming. When you trace the ruler of the 9th house through the chart, you find your unique source of growth, truth, spiritual path, worldview, and even how life calls you beyond your comfort zone. “Where does life want to grow me up? “How do I seek purpose, higher truth, or a bigger story?”

9th House Ruler in the 1st House

Your whole life is a quest for meaning.

You embody the philosopher vibe. Travel, learning, and spiritual experiences shape your identity. People may see you as wise beyond your years — or a natural guide/teacher. You expand through: Personal experience, self-expression, walking your truth. Thinking you have all the answers is your shadow side. “I am the journey.”

9th House Ruler in the 2nd House

You want truth you can touch.

Your values and beliefs are deeply tied — you don’t just talk the talk, you live it. You may be drawn to spiritual or educational paths that offer material grounding or security. You expand through: Building, earning, practicing what you preach. Limiting beliefs about worth or abundance can be an issue. “What I believe shapes what I receive.”

9th House Ruler in the 3rd House

You’re a translator of wisdom.

You take big ideas and make them digestible. You learn and teach through conversation, writing, and sharing. You’re curious and constantly expanding your mind. You expand through: Language, storytelling, community dialogue. Can have Scattered thinking or dogmatic opinions. “Truth lives in everyday conversations.”

9th House Ruler in the 4th House

Home is a spiritual journey.

Your roots, ancestors, and emotional patterns shape your beliefs. You may have grown up with strong cultural or religious influences — or find personal expansion through inner emotional work. You expand through: Emotional safety, healing the past, honoring your lineage. Clinging to inherited belief systems is something to let go of! “My truth begins at home.”

9th House Ruler in the 5th House

Your joy is your philosophy.

You believe in creative self-expression, love, and the magic of play. Romance, art, and fun may open your mind and heart to deeper truth. You’re here to teach through your passions. You expand through: Love, art, performance, romantic adventure. Needing attention or validation for your ideas can be frequent.“I believe in joy as a sacred act.”

9th House Ruler in the 6th House

You live your truth through service.

You integrate your beliefs into your daily life. Spirituality isn’t abstract to you — it’s in your routines, your work, your rituals. You may be called to healing or service professions. You expand through: Practical action, consistency, showing up. Can be prone to Self-sacrificing or rigid thinking around “doing it right”. “Every day is sacred when done with purpose.”

9th House Ruler in the 7th House

Relationships are your gateway to growth.

You attract partners who expand your mind or worldview — sometimes from different cultures, beliefs, or life paths. One-on-one connection teaches you the most. You expand through: Partnerships, reflection, shared beliefs. Giving power to others’ philosophies. “Our connection teaches me who I am.”

9th House Ruler in the 8th House

Your beliefs are born from transformation.

You don’t do surface-level spirituality — you want depth, truth, and emotional alchemy. You may explore taboo or mystical paths, and your purpose often rises from personal rebirth. You expand through: Shadow work, intimacy, spiritual death + rebirth. Obsessing over finding the “ultimate truth”. “I go deep to rise higher.”

9th House Ruler in the 9th House

You’re the archetypal seeker.

You were born to explore truth, culture, philosophy, or spirituality in a BIG way. Travel, teaching, publishing, or guiding others may be part of your soul path. You expand through: Faith, freedom, learning, exploring. Arrogance, superiority, or escapism. “Life itself is my university.”

9th House Ruler in the 10th House

Your purpose is to live your truth publicly.

Your beliefs shape your career and legacy. You may be known as a teacher, speaker, guide, or leader in your field. What you stand for is part of your reputation. You expand through: Ambition, impact, visibility. Performing your truth for clout. “My truth is my mission.”

9th House Ruler in the 11th House

You believe in the future.

Your soul seeks expansion through community, causes, and collective vision. You may feel called to progressive movements, teaching groups, or spreading truth via tech or networks. You expand through: Social impact, innovation, collective dreaming. Losing individual belief in groupthink. “My vision isn’t just mine — it’s ours.”

9th House Ruler in the 12th House

Your truth is cosmic.

You’re tapped into divine, mystical, or dream realms. Your beliefs may be hard to articulate — they’re felt more than taught. Spiritual solitude is your sacred teacher. You expand through: Surrender, inner knowing, spiritual devotion. Escaping reality or spiritual bypassing. “I believe in what can’t be seen.”

[glitzglamgunpowder-if]

"You were destined for a life better than this. A life free from violence, from bloodshed. But here you are once again, it's like you never left."

YOU were a child destined for greatness, for your name to be written into the pages of history. Whatever happened in your past didn't matter anymore. You were born with raw talent and charisma that couldn't be wasted, that people can only dream of. But your innate gift didn't mean your path would be easy. After the circus shut down, you stumbled through life delivering each performance like it was your last. You thought you've reached your peak, until a mysterious offer suddenly throws you into a life of crime.

Content Warnings [Will Be Updated]: Heavy Extremist Religious Themes, Depictions of Trauma, Poor Mental Health, and Violence/Criminal Activity

Play as a male, female, or nonbinary performer

Customize your MC’s physical appearance, façade personality, and choose a pseudonym for them

Befriend or Romance 4 ROs

Dedicate yourself to honing your natural talent

Choose your end goal and earn the fame you have craved your entire life

How do you want the public to perceive you? To be respected, or to be feared?

Learn more about the secrets of your dark past. Will you learn how the circus fell? How you ended up here of all places?

Will you acquire the fame you deserve, or will you fade into history?

Outline of Stats/Routes!!

Alistair/Alice Delacroix - THE RIVAL

AS you adjust to your new life, you hear rumors about your fated rival. One whose mind was poisoned to despise every fiber of your being. It's no surprise they're known for their ambition, their cunning, their ruthless nature. Their path led them to inevitable darkness, but will yours?

Trope: Forbidden Romance/Enemies to Lovers

Samuel/Samantha "Sam" Kaminski - THE BOSS

YOU are an acquired talent on behalf of the current wealthy owner of the elusive Spotlight Syndicate, one of the most popular bars of its time. They're one of the few people who don't question your mysterious past, who trust you as implicitly as the air they breathe. You know deep down they have a soft spot for you, one of their greatest assets, but they're motives are...difficult to discern. But is there a possibility your relationship could go beyond transactional business?

Trope: Boss x Employee/Age Gap

Hendrik/Helena Rietveld - THE BODYGUARD

YOU don't know much about them, nor do they seem willing to give you any more information than necessary for your safety. But one thing's for sure, they're loyal to the ones they serve. And given your new...circumstances, that may be exactly what you need: someone who would travel from heaven to hell and back if their duty called for it. Will you be the first to crack the unsolvable's code?

Trope: Bodyguard Romance/Potential Grumpy x Sunshine

Jesse Lê - THE FRIEND DETECTIVE

YOU never expected to see them again after...never mind that! They stand before you now, a completely reinvented version of themself. A stranger to everyone they encounter. Will you be able to slip off the carefully curated mask they've built and heal from your past together? Or will that smoking gun be laid to rest once and for all?

Trope: Childhood Friends to Lovers -> Detective x Potential Criminal

Physical Description of the ROs!!

Despite being a frequent IF player, this is my very first time trying to create an IF myself as someone with little coding experience (I'm more of a writer if anything). I'm definitely learning as I go, and I understand this may lead to mistakes or disappointment at times, so I preemptively apologize for them. I tend to become overly ambitious, and I want to make sure I always deliver on the promises I make. I say this because some of you may have ask about certain features being implemented and I will have to say "Sorry, I don't really know how to do that yet, but I'll try and learn how!" Hopefully, this will be a fun learning experience, and you all have a fun time on here! Sincerely, Mira <3

DEMO || BETA TESTER FORM || PLAYLIST || BLUESKY

[infintiandbeyond]

A Rivalry for the Ages

Gojo x Teacher!Reader

Word: 6.3k

An angsty enemies to friends to lover trop with classic miscommunication and a happy ending :) Happy Reading.

------------------------------------

The first time you began to see Gojo Satoru as a rival more than an enemy was after a devastating defeat. 

Your journey to becoming a teacher at Kyoto Prefectural Jujutsu High School had been an arduous one, marked by determination and resilience. Raised in a family renowned for their jujutsu techniques, you had always felt the weight of expectations upon your shoulders. From an early age, you exhibited a natural talent for jujutsu sorcery, but it was your unyielding spirit and relentless training that truly set you apart. 

After graduating from the distinguished Jujutsu High School in Tokyo, where you often found yourself competing with the prodigious Gojo Satoru, you decided to hone your skills further by undertaking missions across various regions. Your proficiency and unwavering dedication did not go unnoticed, earning you a reputation as a formidable jujutsu sorcerer. When the opportunity arose to join Kyoto Prefectural Jujutsu High School as a teacher, you seized it with both hands, eager to impart your knowledge and inspire the next generation of sorcerers. 

You knew the best way to prove yourself would be at the Sister School Goodwill Event. The months leading up to the event were filled with rigorous training sessions and tireless preparation. Your commitment to prove yourself and elevate your students' potential was unwavering. You emphasized discipline, creativity, and perseverance, pushing them to their limits while fostering a sense of camaraderie and mutual respect. 

As the event approached, excitement and anxiety intermingled. Memories of your own school days at Tokyo Jujutsu High and your rivalry with Gojo Satoru resurfaced, fueling your resolve. You frequently recalled the times you had come close to beating him, only to fall short. But now, as a teacher, your goals were different. It was not about personal glory—it was about guiding your students to victory and displaying the strength of Kyoto Prefectural Jujutsu High School. 

The atmosphere at the event was electrifying. The friendly yet fierce competition between the schools was palpable, and you could not help but feel a mix of pride and nervous anticipation. You had faith in your students but knew the challenges ahead were formidable. 

The air was charged with tension as the Sister School Goodwill Event commenced. As the newly appointed teacher at Kyoto Prefectural Jujutsu High School, you stood confidently, bragging about your students’ accomplishments, hoping fervently that they would surpass the Tokyo school. You had always been in the shadow of Gojo Satoru's laurels during your youth, never catching his notice. Yet, during this event, you were going to make him see you. Make him acknowledge your power and skill. 

The Sister School Goodwill Event was a grand affair, attracting spectators from all corners of the jujutsu world. Held over several days, the event featured a series of competitions designed to test the skills, strategy, and teamwork of students from both schools. 

The first day kicked off with the individual battles, where students displayed their unique techniques and prowess in one-on-one duels. As you watched from the sidelines, your anxious heart swelled with pride. Your students fought valiantly, each clash echoing with the sounds of their determination and the roars of the crowd. The intensity of the matches was beyond anything you had anticipated, and it was clear that the Tokyo students were equally prepared. 

Following the individual battles were the team events, which emphasized coordination and collective strength. The relay race through the treacherous forest terrain was particularly exhilarating, as students navigated obstacles, traps, and even summoned curses. Your students had trained tirelessly for this, and their performance was nothing short of spectacular. They moved with precision and trust in one another, highlighting the unity and discipline you had instilled in them. 

The final day of the event featured the highly anticipated baseball game, a tradition that brought a light-hearted yet fiercely competitive spirit to the proceedings. The rules were simple yet demanding, requiring not just athletic ability but also quick thinking and clever use of jujutsu techniques. The sense of camaraderie and mutual respect among the students was palpable, even as they faced off against formidable opponents. 

Throughout the event, you found yourself crossing paths with Gojo Satoru more often than you would like. His presence was as commanding as ever, and his teasing remarks kept you on your toes. Despite the underlying tension and rivalry, there was an unspoken acknowledgment of each other's skills and dedication to your respective schools. 

Each day brought its own challenges and triumphs, and by the time the baseball game arrived, the atmosphere was electric with anticipation. The stands were filled with cheering students, faculty, and alumni, all eager to see who would emerge victorious. You could feel the weight of your students' expectations and hopes, and you silently vowed to guide them to their best performance yet. 

Despite your efforts, however, the disappointment was palpable after the baseball game ended in a loss for your school. "Better luck next time," Gojo teased, a smug grin on his face as he stared down at you. It was hard making direct eye contact when your view was interrupted by such dark shades.  

You turned your head, hiding the sting of defeat, and replied with a slight smirk, "Don't get too comfortable, Gojo. We'll come back stronger." 

He chuckled, using a finger to tilt his shades down a few inches, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Is that a challenge? I look forward to it. Just don't let your students slack off." 

Rolling your eyes, you retorted, "I don't need you to tell me how to train my students. Besides, they’re already motivated enough to beat you." 

His grin widened. "I like your spirit. We should have a little wager on the next event. What do you say?" 

Raising an eyebrow, you tilted your head thoughtfully. "What's the wager?" 

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. "If your students win, I'll treat you to dinner at the best restaurant in Tokyo. If mine win, you must join me for a training session. Best date you will ever have, guaranteed. Deal?" 

You extended your hand with a confident smile. "Deal. You better prepare to lose, Gojo." 

He shook your hand, his touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary. "We'll see about that." 

As you walked away, you could not help but feel a flutter of excitement. The thought of a rivalry with Gojo was exhilarating, pushing you to greater heights. 

The second time you saw Gojo Satoru as a rival, you did not think you’d ever hear the end of it. 

The next few months flew by, filled with intense training sessions and the anticipation of the upcoming the next Sister school event. The thought of Gojo’s shocked face at the victory your students fueled you to try even harder than before, you knew you would win, there was no other way. 

The day of the Goodwill Event arrived with a burst of energy and anticipation. The arena buzzed with excitement as students from different schools mingled and prepared for the competitions. You could see the dedication etched on your students' faces, a mirror of your own resolve to secure victory. 

Despite their best efforts and intense training, the competition proved to be tougher than expected. Gojo's students demonstrated exceptional skills, pushing your team to their limits. The final match came down to a nail-biting finish, with Gojo’s team narrowly clinching the win. 

The disappointment was palpable as you gathered your students afterwards. They looked exhausted and disheartened, the weight of defeat hanging heavily in the air. You took a deep breath, addressing them with a warm yet firm tone. "You all fought valiantly. Remember, this loss is not a measure of your worth or abilities. It is a steppingstone to becoming even stronger. We'll analyze what went wrong, learn from it, and come back with even greater determination." 

As you spoke, you noticed Gojo approaching with a smug but good-natured grin. “Tough break,” he said, his tone surprisingly gentle. “But your students showed great promise. I can see why you’re so proud of them.” 

“You’re not getting rid of us that easily, Gojo,” you replied, the competitive fire still burning in your eyes. “We’ll be back, and next time, we’re taking that trophy.” 

He chuckled, a spark of admiration in his gaze. “I look forward to it. Until then, don’t forget our wager. A deal’s a deal.” 

With a nod, you turned back to your students, who were beginning to show signs of renewed hope. Together, you walked away from the arena, already planning the next phase of your training. The loss had only strengthened your resolve, and you knew that the next time you faced Gojo, it would be under different circumstances. 

As you and your students walked away from the arena, a memory from not too long ago surfaced, a stark reminder of Gojo's effortless brilliance. 

It was a particularly grim day when a powerful curse had surfaced in the heart of the city, causing panic and wrecking havoc. Determined to prove your worth, you had rushed to the scene, ready to confront the malevolent spirit. 

The sky had darkened with ominous clouds as you faced the curse, its dark aura pulsing with a menacing energy. You had fought with all your might, each attack a testament to your skill, but the curse was relentless, absorbing your efforts with an almost mocking ease. Just when it seemed like you might be overwhelmed, a familiar, nonchalant voice broke through the tension. 

"Need a hand?" Gojo's unmistakable silhouette appeared amidst the chaos, his demeanor as casual as if he were strolling through a park. Without waiting for a response, he raised a hand, and with a single, precise gesture, the curse was obliterated in an explosion of light and energy. 

You had stood there, panting, and exhausted, watching incredulously as Gojo walked over, his signature smile firmly in place. "You did well," he had said, his tone genuinely appreciative, "but sometimes, it's okay to ask for help." 

That moment had left an indelible mark on you, a potent mix of frustration and awe. It was not just his overwhelming power that struck you, but his ability to make the impossible look so effortless. It was shortly after this encounter that your phone rang, breaking the introspective silence. 

"Hello?" you answered, still catching your breath from the recent ordeal. 

"It's Masamichi Yaga," the gruff voice on the other end of the line stated. "We need your help at the Tokyo school. There's a shortage of teachers, and your experience would be invaluable." 

You hesitated, glancing at your students, who were now chatting animatedly about their plans for improvement. "I appreciate the offer, but I have my own responsibilities here." 

"I understand," Yaga replied, "but think of the impact you could have on a larger scale. These are trying times, and your skills as a mentor are greatly needed." 

The weight of his words hung in the air. You knew it was not just a call for help; it was an acknowledgment of your abilities and the importance of your role in shaping the next generation of sorcerers. After a moment's contemplation, you agreed. 

"I'll be there as soon as I can," you said, determination settling in your voice. 

Yaga's relieved sigh was almost palpable. "Thank you. Your presence will make a significant difference." 

As you ended the call, you felt a renewed sense of purpose. The challenges ahead were daunting, but this was an opportunity to grow, to push your limits, and to stand shoulder to shoulder with the likes of Gojo.  

The third time you saw Gojo as a rival, was when he tried his best to become your friend. 

When you arrived at the Tokyo school, Gojo was the first to greet you, his usual nonchalant demeanor firmly in place. "So, you're here now," he remarked casually, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Don't think you can just waltz in and take over." 

You rolled your eyes, a smirk playing at your lips. "As if I'd want to," you retorted, though you could not deny the flutter of nerves his presence always seemed to induce. 

"Good to see you haven't lost your edge," Gojo said, his tone light but sincere. "We've got a lot of work ahead of us." 

"Tell me something I don't know," you replied, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension at the thought of working alongside him. 

Gojo chuckled, his smile widening. "Don't worry, I'll try not to overshadow you too much." 

"Just try to keep up," you shot back, a playful challenge in your voice. 

Despite your cool facade, you could not deny the flutter of nerves his presence always seemed to induce. Gojo, ever the enigma, watched you closely. You did not flatter him as others did; instead, you spoke your mind, often challenging his views, earning his respect, and growing admiration. 

The next day, you found yourself standing in the training yard, surrounded by the energetic presence of his students. Each one of them brought their unique skills and personalities to the session, creating a dynamic and challenging environment. 

"Alright, everyone," you began, addressing the eager faces before you. "Today's focus is on teamwork and strategy. Let's see how you handle different scenarios together." 

The students nodded, their determination evident. You divided them into pairs, matching their strengths and weaknesses to foster growth and cooperation. As the training commenced, you could not help but be impressed by their dedication and progress. Yuuji's raw strength and agility, Megumi's tactical prowess, Nobara's fierce determination, Yuta's versatile combat skills, Maki's unwavering discipline, Toge's precise command of cursed speech, and Panda's adaptability all contributed to a formidable team. 

Throughout the session, you provided guidance and feedback, pushing them to refine their techniques and think on their feet. The atmosphere was electric, filled with the sounds of exertion and the clash of weapons. Despite their individual talents, it was their ability to work together that truly shone through. 

Unbeknownst to you, Gojo had been observing from the sidelines, his keen eyes taking in every detail. As the session progressed, a smile played at the corners of his lips. He was genuinely impressed by how well you managed the training, bringing out the best in each student while fostering a sense of camaraderie.  

As Gojo observed from the sidelines, he found his gaze frequently drifting towards you. Each precise instruction you gave, every moment of encouragement you offered, and the fierce commitment in your eyes as you guided the students captivated him. He could feel his heart quickening, thumping louder with every passing second. The admiration he felt was no longer about your skills or dedication; it was something deeper, more personal. He was falling for you, and it terrified him. You had been on his mind, constantly, ever since that Sister Event two years ago. Before that, it took all he could to not embarrass himself in front of you during your years in school together. He had missed you greatly and seeing you now, looking even better than you had before, made those feelings grow ten times as much. The fear of overwhelming you or coming off too strong gnawed at him, making him hesitant to even breach the subject. Yet, he could not deny the growing affection, a tender sensation that made him wish for more moments like these, where he could witness your brilliance up close. He wanted to be near you, to understand you, but the fear of ruining what fragile bond you had kept him rooted in place, torn between his feelings and his restraint. 

When the session finally drew to a close, you gathered the students around for a debrief. "Excellent work, everyone," you praised, your voice filled with pride. "You've shown remarkable progress and teamwork today. Keep pushing yourselves and supporting each other. That's how we'll grow stronger together." 

The students beamed, their spirits lifted by your words of encouragement. As they dispersed, you felt a presence beside you. Turning, you saw Gojo, his expression one of genuine admiration. 

"You handled that brilliantly," he remarked, his tone sincere. "They're lucky to have you." 

A warm flush of gratitude spread through you at his praise. "Thank you, Gojo," you replied, meeting his gaze. "It means a lot coming from you." 

He chuckled, a playful glint in his eyes. "Don't let it go to your head.” 

Over the next few months, the students continued to train diligently under your guidance. Each session brought new challenges and opportunities for growth, as they honed their skills and deepened their bonds with one another. You introduced a variety of scenarios, pushing them to think creatively and work as a cohesive unit. The progress was evident; their techniques became more refined, their strategies more sophisticated, and their teamwork more seamless. 

You and Gojo often collaborated on training exercises, blending your unique approaches to create a comprehensive and dynamic curriculum. The students thrived in this environment, their confidence soaring with each passing week. Your partnership with Gojo grew stronger as well, fueled by mutual respect and a shared commitment to the students' success. Despite the occasional teasing and playful banter, a genuine camaraderie developed between you two, marked by trust and admiration. 

Through it all, Gojo's feelings for you only intensified. He found himself attracted to your passion, your dedication, and the way you effortlessly inspired those around you. The students, observant as ever, noticed the subtle shifts in his demeanor. Gojo found himself increasingly drawn to your strength and independence. It was refreshing to meet someone who did not bend over backward to seek his approval. You reminded him of why he loved being a teacher; to see raw, unfiltered talent and passion. You, on the other hand, began to see beyond Gojo's arrogance. You noticed the subtle signs of exhaustion, the heavy burden of expectations he carried, and the loneliness that lurked behind his ever-present smile. 

The students soon noticed Gojo's interest and began scheming ways to bring the two of you together. Their mischief was both endearing and exasperating, nudging you towards an unexpected friendship with Gojo. 

Megumi and Nobara collaborated to put something in motion. Their first plan involved organizing a picnic, hoping that the relaxed atmosphere would spark a deeper connection. 

"This will be perfect! They will have no choice but to talk and bond," Megumi suggested. However, an unexpected downpour forced everyone to take shelter, and the moment was lost amidst the scramble to stay dry. 

"Well, that didn't work," Nobara sighed. “We might need a little more help.” 

The next afternoon, after an intense training session, the students gathered in a quiet corner of the campus, whispering conspiratorially. Megumi explained the situation to Yuuji.  

"We need a new plan," Megumi said, his brow furrowed in thought. "Something that will really make them see their feelings for each other." 

"How about a romantic dinner?" Yuuji suggested, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "We could set it up in the training room with candles and flowers!" 

Nobara shook her head, a skeptical look on her face. "We tried that already, remember? They got called away on a mission." 

"True," Yuuji conceded. "But what if we try something more subtle this time?" 

"Like what?" Megumi asked, intrigued. 

"Maybe we can create a situation where they have to rely on each other," Yuuji proposed. "Something that will make them realize how much they mean to each other." 

Nobara nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! Like a team-building exercise, but more intense. What if we pretend one of us is in danger, and only they can save us?" 

"It's risky," Megumi cautioned, "but it might just work." 

"Or we can spread a rumor," Yuuji added, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "People will start talking, and maybe they'll feel pressured to address it." 

"That's actually not a bad idea," Megumi admitted. "They might be forced to confront their feelings if everyone else is talking about it." 

"Alright, so we have two plans," Nobara summed up. "We either create a situation where they have to depend on each other, or we spread a rumor and see what happens." 

"Let's try both," Yuuji said confidently. "We can't afford to fail this time." 

With determined nods, the students dispersed, each one silently vowing to bring their teachers together no matter what it took 

Undeterred, they next arranged for a surprise team-building exercise, partnering you and Gojo for all the activities. 

"Ready to lose?" Gojo teased as you both prepared for the first challenge. Instead of fostering romance, the competitive spirit between you two only seemed to amplify, leading to playful arguments and a lot of laughter, but no confessions of love. 

"You call that a throw?" you challenged, smirking at him. 

Still determined, they resorted to spreading rumors, hoping that the gossip would force either you or Gojo to address the situation directly. 

"Did you hear? Apparently, Gojo-sensei and our instructor are an item," one student whispered. 

"Really? They do spend a lot of time together," another replied. 

This too failed, as both of you brushed off the whispers, focusing instead on your duties and responsibilities. 

"Just ignore them," you said, rolling your eyes. 

"Yeah, they're just being kids," Gojo agreed, smiling reassuringly. 

Despite their best efforts, none of the students' plans seemed to work. Yet, through these orchestrated scenarios, you and Gojo spent more time together, slowly but surely building a bond that neither of you could deny. It was clear that while the students' plans had not succeeded in the way they intended, they had inadvertently brought you closer together in a way that was genuine and unforced. 

One particular evening, after a long day of training, you found yourself in the school's courtyard, practicing alone. Gojo approached quietly, watching you with a mixture of admiration and curiosity. 

"You're pushing yourself too hard," he said, breaking the silence. "You need to rest." You turned to face him, sweat glistening on your brow.  

"I don't need your advice," you replied stubbornly.  

Gojo chuckled, "Stubborn as always, I see. Just don't wear yourself out." 

You paused, considering his words and the familiar warmth in his eyes. It struck you then - Gojo was not trying to belittle you or undermine your efforts. He was looking out for you, caring in the only way he knew how. 

Gradually, the pieces fell into place. All those times he seemed to effortlessly excel, while you struggled to catch up, were not meant to overshadow you, but to push you to greater heights. His provocations were not to demean but to challenge, to see you become the best version of yourself. 

As you gazed at him, the realization enveloped you like a soothing balm. "Thank you," you murmured, the words laden with newfound understanding. Gojo's eyes softened, a rare vulnerability flickering across his face. 

"Anytime," he replied, his voice gentle. In that moment, the barriers between you began to crumble, leaving behind a bond forged in respect and mutual admiration. 

The fourth time you saw Satoru as a rival was when you both fought to be the better friend, and in a twisted turn of events, it was him. 

The higher-ups eventually assigned both of you to a perilous Special Grade Mission. "Stay close," Gojo instructed, a rare seriousness in his tone. As you approached the dilapidated entrance of the abandoned hospital, an eerie silence enveloped the surroundings. The air was thick with malevolent energy, and the shadows seemed to twist and flicker with a life of their own. 

Suddenly, the curse emerged, a monstrous entity with grotesque limbs and a gaping maw, its eyes burning with hatred. The battle commenced with a flurry of motion. Gojo, with his unparalleled speed and precision, launched a barrage of powerful strikes, his Limitless technique creating an impenetrable barrier between you and the curse. His movements were a blur, each attack calculated to weaken the entity. 

Despite Gojo's efforts, the curse's resilience was formidable. It retaliated with ferocity, its claws slashing through the air, aiming for any vulnerable spot. You fought valiantly by Gojo's side, your attacks synchronizing with his, but the curse's strength was overwhelming. A particularly savage blow sent you crashing into a crumbling wall, pain searing through your body. 

"Stay down!" Gojo shouted, his voice edged with panic as he intensified his assault on the curse. Ignoring the pain, you pushed yourself back into the fray. 

The curse, sensing an opportunity, launched its most devastating attack. A wave of dark energy surged towards you, and before you could react, it struck with brutal force. Agony exploded in your chest as you collapsed, blood pooling around you. Gojo's eyes widened in horror, and with a roar of fury, he unleashed his full power, obliterating the curse in a blinding flash of energy. 

Rushing to your side, Gojo's hands trembled as he assessed your injuries. "Hang on," he muttered, his voice breaking. He scooped you up with a gentleness that contrasted the urgency of the situation. Every second counted as he sped towards Shoko Ieiri, his breath ragged with fear and panic. 

Bursting into the infirmary, Gojo shouted, "Shoko, help!" The healer immediately sprang into action, her expression grave as she began to work on your wounds. Gojo stayed at your side, his eyes never leaving your face, silently willing you to survive. 

Days turned into weeks as you lay recuperating, your body slowly mending from the life-threatening injuries. Emotions you had long buried began to surface. The countless nights spent envying Gojo's effortless brilliance, the sting of being overlooked, all seemed distant memories compared to the genuine concern and tenderness he now showed you. His presence was a comforting balm, and you found yourself looking forward to his visits, your heart softening with each passing day. 

Emotions you had long buried began to surface. The countless nights spent envying Gojo's effortless brilliance, the sting of being overlooked, all seemed distant memories compared to the genuine concern and tenderness he now showed you. His presence was a comforting balm, and you found yourself looking forward to his visits, your heart softening with each passing day. 

The fifth time you saw Satoru as a rival, you weren’t sure if he was fighting for the same thing. 

While you were recovering, many of the students visited you, bringing warmth and cheer to your otherwise quiet days. Among your frequent visitors were Nanami Kento and Geto Suguru. The three of you quickly became close friends, spending time together and sharing stories, laughter, and a renewed sense of camaraderie. Of all your new friendships, your bond with Nanami grew the deepest. His steady presence and thoughtful conversations were a comfort, and you often found yourselves lost in discussions long after the others had left. 

"You know," Nanami said one evening, "it's refreshing to have these conversations. It reminds me of why I enjoy teaching." 

You smiled, "I feel the same way. It's good to have friends who understand." 

However, it did not take long for Gojo to notice your growing closeness with Nanami. A flicker of jealousy began to smolder within him, and he found himself bristling at the sight of you two together 

Nanami and Geto, perceptive as they were, soon picked up on Gojo's increasing discomfort. With a shared understanding and a touch of mischievousness, they devised a plan to push Gojo into confessing his true feelings before it was too late. 

One afternoon, while you were sitting in the courtyard enjoying a quiet moment, Nanami approached with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Hold still," he said, leaning in closer, "I think there's something on your cheek." Before you could react, he gently brushed his thumb across your skin, his touch lingering just long enough to catch Gojo's attention from across the yard. 

Gojo's eyebrows shot up, and a storm of emotions flashed across his face. Without another word, he spun on his heel and headed straight for Geto. "Did you see that?" he fumed. "Nanami was practically caressing their face!" 

Geto stifled a laugh, understanding the ploy immediately. "You know, Gojo, you could always make your feelings clear instead of sulking and glaring like a jealous teenager." 

Gojo’s frustration boiled over. "I can't just—how do I even start?" 

"Simple," Geto smirked. "You tell them how you feel." 

With those words echoing in his mind, Gojo's resolve hardened. He could not stand the thought of losing you to someone else, even if it were Nanami. Driven by a newfound urgency, he found himself running to your apartment in the middle of the night, his breath ragged as he knocked on your door. 

When you opened it, surprise evident in your eyes, Gojo was suddenly nervous and not sure how to confess anymore. His usual confidence wavered as he stuttered, "I... I was wondering if... maybe you'd like to go out with me sometime?" 

Confused by his sudden hesitation and disoriented by being awakened at such an odd hour, you thought back to the bet he had mentioned at the Goodwill Event. "Is this about the bet?" you asked, your voice cautious. 

Gojo blinked, momentarily thrown off. "Y-yes, the bet," he quickly agreed, hoping to salvage the moment. 

You nodded reluctantly, "Alright, we can go out... for the bet." 

Relief and disappointment mixed in Gojo's eyes, but he resolved to use this opportunity to get closer to you. 

“I won’t disappoint.” Gojo aimed to cover those vulnerable feelings with a suave smirk and a wink. You stared straight into the cerulean blue eyes that had been haunting your every waking moment.  

“I’m sure you won’t. Goodnight, Satoru.” You smiled quickly and closed the door. 

As you both went your separate ways, while elated at the familiarity that you now shared, Gojo could not help but feel a pang of regret. He wanted to be honest and tell you about his true feelings, but fear of rejection held him back. His mind raced, wondering if you would ever truly understand the depth of his affection. 

You, on the other hand, felt a mixture of confusion and curiosity. You had always felt a special bond with Gojo, but the idea that he might have deeper feelings for you was something you had not fully considered. The thought of it made your heart flutter, yet the mention of the bet left you uncertain about his intentions. 

The weight of unspoken words hung heavily on both of your minds, a tangible presence that neither of you could ignore. In that moment, everything felt both exhilarating and terrifying, as if the future of your relationship hinged on the next steps you would take. 

Gojo's determination began to solidify, and he knew that he could not let this opportunity slip away. He would find a way to tell you how he truly felt, no matter how daunting the task seemed. 

The next evening, Gojo planned a wonderful date, making every effort to impress to make it memorable. He took you to a picturesque rooftop restaurant with a stunning view of the city skyline. The soft glow of candlelight and the gentle strumming of a live guitarist set the perfect romantic atmosphere. 

Throughout the evening, the conversation flowed effortlessly. You shared stories, laughed at his playful jokes, and listened as he spoke passionately about his work and his dreams. The connection between you grew stronger with every passing moment. 

After dinner, Gojo surprised you with a walk along the riverbank, where the moonlight danced on the water's surface. He held your hand, and you felt a warmth and comfort you had not experienced before. As you paused to take in the serene beauty of the night, you both turned to face each other, the air thick with unspoken emotions. 

"Tonight has been incredible," you said softly, breaking the comfortable silence. "I never knew you could be so romantic, Gojo." 

He chuckled, a hint of nervousness in his voice. "There's a lot you don't know about me, but I want to change that. I want us to know everything about each other." 

Gojo's eyes locked onto yours, and he slowly leaned in, his intentions clear. Your heart raced, and just as your lips were about to touch, a sudden noise startled you both, causing you to pull away. The moment passed, leaving you both with a mixture of anticipation and longing. 

"Maybe next time," he murmured, his voice laced with hope. 

Your heart sank as you were reminded of the real reason behind the date. It was all for a bet made at the goodwill event, a calculated move to win a challenge. The wonderful evening, the laughter, the almost-kiss—it was all tainted by this revelation. You could not help but feel foolish for allowing yourself to be swept away by the moment. 

The next day, during practice with the students, you could not shake the memory of the almost-kiss. You found yourself very noticeably avoiding Gojo, unsure of how to process your feelings and the unresolved tension between you. You focused intently on the lesson, doing your best to maintain a professional demeanor, but Gojo's presence was impossible to ignore. 

"What's going on? You've been avoiding me all day," Gojo said, his eyes searching yours for answers. 

You took a deep breath, your emotions a whirlwind of confusion and hurt. "You really don't get it, do you?" you replied, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and sadness. "It was all just a game to you. The date, the romantic gestures—all of it was because of a bet." 

Gojo's expression shifted from confusion to realization, his eyes widening slightly. "Wait, it wasn't just a game to me. I—" 

But you could not bear to hear any more. "Save it, Gojo. I don't want to hear your excuses," you interrupted, turning away from him. The bitterness and resentment began to creep back into your heart, and you resolved to keep your distance, avoiding him as much as possible. 

The days that followed were filled with strained interactions and a palpable tension. You focused on your duties, doing everything in your power to maintain a professional demeanor. But behind the mask, your heart ached with the sting of betrayal and the loss of what could have been. 

The first time Gojo Satoru saw you...he knew he would never let you go. 

A week later, as you were strolling along campus, Yaga called you into his office. He offered you a permanent position as a teacher, praising your dedication and skill. The offer was tempting, but your mind was made up. 

"Thank you, Yaga," you said, attempting to keep your voice steady. "But I think it's best for me to return to Kyoto. I need some time away from everything here." 

Yaga's brows furrowed in concern, but he nodded in understanding. "If that's what you feel is best, then I won't stand in your way. Just know that you'll always have a place here." 

As you walked back to your room to pack, you could not help but feel a sense of finality. You were ready to leave, to put the tumultuous emotions behind you. But unbeknownst to you, Gojo also happened to be nearby, as he was the one to encourage Yaga to keep you on, just as he had not too long ago convinced him to hire you in the first place. He had inadvertently overheard your conversation with Yaga. His heart sank, the weight of your departure hitting him like a tidal wave. 

Distraught, Gojo wandered aimlessly through the hallways until he ran into Nanami and Geto. They instantly noticed his somber expression. 

"Why the long face, Gojo?" Nanami asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Gojo let out a heavy sigh. "They're leaving. I overheard them talking to Yaga. They're going back to Kyoto." 

Geto exchanged a look with Nanami before shaking his head. "You're really going to let them walk away just like that? Come on, man, stop pouting and go get them back." 

Nanami nodded in agreement. "If they mean that much to you, then you need to fight for it. Don't let a misunderstanding ruin everything." 

Gojo's eyes lit up with a renewed determination. He knew they were right. This was his chance to make things right, to prove that his feelings were genuine. He could not be a coward anymore. Without another word, he turned on his heel and sprinted down the halls, his mind racing with thoughts of how he could convince you to stay. 

As you were nearly finished packing, you heard hurried footsteps approaching. You turned to see Gojo standing at your doorway, breathless and with a look of desperation in his eyes. 

"Please, just listen to me," he begged, stepping into the room. "I can't let you leave without telling you how I truly feel." 

You stood silent, heart pounding, as Gojo took a deep breath and continued. "I've never felt this way about anyone before. Your presence, your strength, everything about you has changed me in ways I cannot even begin to explain. I know I've made mistakes, but I'm asking you to give me one real chance. Give us a real chance" 

His voice wavered, but his resolve was clear. "Stay. Stay and let me prove to you that I'm worth it, that we can be something extraordinary together." 

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at him, torn between the life you had planned and the undeniable sincerity in his words. This was a decisive moment, one that could alter the course of both your lives forever. And you were ready to take that leap if it meant he kept looking at you like that. 

“Yeah, let’s do it.” 

[probablyasocialecologist]

Despite Sparta’s reputation for superior fighting, Spartan armies were as likely to lose battles as to win them, especially against peer opponents such as other Greek city-states. Sparta defeated Athens in the Peloponnesian War—but only by accepting Persian money to do it, reopening the door to Persian influence in the Aegean, which Greek victories at Plataea and Salamis nearly a century early had closed. Famous Spartan victories at Plataea and Mantinea were matched by consequential defeats at Pylos, Arginusae, and ultimately Leuctra. That last defeat at Leuctra, delivered by Thebes a mere 33 years after Sparta’s triumph over Athens, broke the back of Spartan power permanently, reducing Sparta to the status of a second-class power from which it never recovered. Sparta was one of the largest Greek city-states in the classical period, yet it struggled to achieve meaningful political objectives; the result of Spartan arms abroad was mostly failure. Sparta was particularly poor at logistics; while Athens could maintain armies across the Eastern Mediterranean, Sparta repeatedly struggled to keep an army in the field even within Greece. Indeed, Sparta spent the entirety of the initial phase of the Peloponnesian War, the Archidamian War (431-421 B.C.), failing to solve the basic logistical problem of operating long term in Attica, less than 150 miles overland from Sparta and just a few days on foot from the nearest friendly major port and market, Corinth. The Spartans were at best tactically and strategically uncreative. Tactically, Sparta employed the phalanx, a close-order shield and spear formation. But while elements of the hoplite phalanx are often presented in popular culture as uniquely Spartan, the formation and its equipment were common among the Greeks from at least the early fifth century, if not earlier. And beyond the phalanx, the Spartans were not innovators, slow to experiment with new tactics, combined arms, and naval operations. Instead, Spartan leaders consistently tried to solve their military problems with pitched hoplite battles. Spartan efforts to compel friendship by hoplite battle were particularly unsuccessful, as with the failed Spartan efforts to compel Corinth to rejoin the Spartan-led Peloponnesian League by force during the Corinthian War. Sparta’s military mediocrity seems inexplicable given the city-state’s popular reputation as a highly militarized society, but modern scholarship has shown that this, too, is mostly a mirage. The agoge, Sparta’s rearing system for citizen boys, frequently represented in popular culture as akin to an intense military bootcamp, in fact included no arms training or military drills and was primarily designed to instill obedience and conformity rather than skill at arms or tactics. In order to instill that obedience, the older boys were encouraged to police the younger boys with violence, with the result that even in adulthood Spartan citizens were liable to settle disputes with their fists, a tendency that predictably made them poor diplomats. But while Sparta’s military performance was merely mediocre, no better or worse than its Greek neighbors, Spartan politics makes it an exceptionally bad example for citizens or soldiers in a modern free society. Modern scholars continue to debate the degree to which ancient Sparta exercised a unique tyranny of the state over the lives of individual Spartan citizens. However, the Spartan citizenry represented only a tiny minority of people in Sparta, likely never more than 15 percent, including women of citizen status (who could not vote or hold office). Instead, the vast majority of people in Sparta, between 65 and 85 percent, were enslaved helots. (The remainder of the population was confined to Sparta’s bewildering array of noncitizen underclasses.) The figure is staggering, far higher than any other ancient Mediterranean state or, for instance, the antebellum American South, rightly termed a slave society with a third of its people enslaved.

[redisthenewblue]

JESSICA RABBIT like YUU X DORMLEADERS

(This focuses more on Jessica’s personality than her looks!)

So, he probably heard about you from Cater or Ace. When he first spotted you hanging out in the Monstro Lounge—singing and pouring drinks—poor guy didn’t even know how to handle himself! At first, he had his own thoughts about you, but eventually, he warmed up. I mean, when you hit him with that classic line, "I’m not bad, I’m just drawn that way," he totally fumbled his words and turned a shade redder than his hair!

He starts to relax a bit with the rules when you’re around, but if you’re up for the challenge of learning all 810 of them (or at least a third of them, which I bet you are), that’s a wholeee different story! Anytime someone shows a little too much interest in you he’s like, “OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!” Like he loves having an attractive , amazing, dare I say HOT partner but damn is there a lot of things that come as a consequence of such blessing.

And don’t even get me started on how he reacts when you entertain Deuce and Ace’s wild ideas. He loves you to bits, but honestly, you’re stressing him out! Someone save him from the shackles of love🥹‼️

You remind him of the Lionesses back home, embodying their fierce spirit and strength. He never underestimates your capabilities, especially after witnessing someone get their arm caught in a bear trap while attempting to make advances toward you. If anyone crosses the line, he is always prepared to intervene, although he typically ensures that such situations never escalate to that point in the first place.

Your unwavering loyalty is undoubtedly one of his favorite qualities; you are always ready to defend him and are unafraid to remind him to get a grip when necessary. A significant turning point in your relationship came when you allowed him to rest his head on your lap, and this simple act gradually transformed into a cherished routine between the two of you.

Ruggie frequently reaches out to you, expressing his frustrations about Leona and pleading for your assistance in dragging him out of bed and into class.😭 Depending on Leona's mood, he might even pull you down into the bed with him, making it difficult to escape. During nap time, he wraps his tail around your leg like a makeshift sensor, ensuring you remain by his side and do not attempt to leave the bed. Unfortunately, this means you have to say goodbye to your perfect attendance.(RIP)🫡🪦

You and Azul first crossed paths when Floyd and Jade hired you, unbeknownst to Azul, to perform at the Mostro Lounge. After witnessing your debut performance, Azul was so impressed that he promptly offered you a contract, recognizing the influx of new customers you attracted. However, he often feels a twinge of insecurity around you; after all, you are one of the most stunning individuals he has ever encountered (Don’t tell Vil he said that💀)

Adding to his struggles, Jade and Floyd constantly bully😭 tease him, making it nearly impossible for him to focus on his work whenever you're nearby. There was a particularly memorable moment when you accidentally walked in on him changing, prompting him to hide away in embarrassment. Your warm embrace brought him to tears, showcasing the depth of his feelings for you.

In a narrative reminiscent of a mafia boss and his devoted, sweet wife, Azul deeply appreciates your willingness to get your hands dirty in his defense. While he may occasionally take advantage of your fierce loyalty, the silver lining is that you are never entirely constrained by your contracts!🤫

He would totally go above and beyond for you. Out of nowhere, gifts would just show up on your doorstep, which was sweet but also a bit much. You had to remind him that he didn’t need to shower you with presents, but he just couldn’t help himself—everything that reminded him of you ended up in his cart. It got so excessive that Jamil had to step in(per usual)

“Jamil! Do you think they’ll love this?!” Kalim would ask, all excited. And Jamil would just roll his eyes, “You know how they feel about you buying them stuff.” EVERYONE SAY THANK YOU JAMIL‼️‼️

You know you’re always going to be his go-to when he throws a party at the dorm. The whole time, he just clings to you like a koala, and honestly, it’s kind of adorable.

But things got a bit intense when you almost lost it on Jamil after he overblotted and tried to go after Kalim. Ever since then, you’ve kept your guard up around him. Kalim assured you that everything was cool and that there were no hard feelings. He was pretty happy when you said you’d try to move past it for his sake. But let’s be real, that grudge? Not going anywhere. 💀

Absolutely DANGEROUS couple‼️Like the paparazzi just can’t get enough of you two! You’re probably being followed around everywhere with cameras in your face.

Let's be real, you two must be making music together because when you do, those tracks are hitting the TOP 10 on the BILLBOARD charts in no time! Honestly, you guys are just an absolute power couple, and I applaud you for it(I’m jealous)🫡

But seriously, he wouldn’t let you anywhere near Neige. You go to a ball as his plus one and Neige was there? He pulled out every excuse imaginable to get you away from the guy. Like, “I want to introduce you to a co-star of mine,” or dragging you away and saying“Here’s a good friend of mine!” Come on, buddy, you’re not slick😭

He’s just trying to protect himself from losing anything else to Neige. Please, give him a little reassurance (I’m begging you😞).

So, imagine this: a total gamer who's kind of a loser, but somehow he snagged a super hot girl—like, how did he pull that off? I'm honestly a bit confused about how you guys even met since he rarely leaves his room. But if you two ever did bump into each other, you’d totally be the oddest yet cutest couple around! This relationship is probably the closest to Roger Rabbit and Jessica.

You always listen to him go off about his games, and I mean, these rants can get up to four hours. Trust me, he’s not going anywhere if it’s not with you. His hair definitely turns pink whenever you stand up for him or tell a waiter they messed up his order.

He totally fell harder for you when he saw how you interacted with Ortho. You two hit it off right away and became besties, teaming up to coax Idia out of his shell more. Honestly, it’s just one big happy family! 🥹

So, he was super interested in you, right? Lilia had to really push him to make a move and talk to you, even though you might’ve had the reputation to be a bit unapproachable. But hey, that’s probably why you two clicked so well once you finally met! You both totally bond over the fact that no one really wants to come up to you, even if the reasons are different. It just works out perfectly!

When you joined his gargoyle club, he had to seriously hold back a giggle like a school girl. And let’s be real, even though you weren’t really into gargoyles (he could definitely tell🥸), you showed up to every single meeting, listening to him go on and on about those stone creatures. It’s like he’s convinced that you’re the one for him. So, when people start calling you Lady Draconia, just know that this was no mistake 😭

But here’s the thing about dragons: they get super protective over their mate. If anyone tries to mess with you, they're immediately struck down by lightning. He gets all confused when you shake your head and frown, telling him you could’ve handled it on your own.

[greenfiend]

The Show Itself is a Story within a Story

written by characters who exist beyond it

All roads lead to the library...

Why do I think this? What is the purpose of this twist? And most importantly… who is writing this story and why?

First off I’ll just say that I’m well aware this is an unpopular and highly controversial theory. That many say it invalids the story and would be an unsatisfying end. I understand perspectives like this. I won't be going into the arguments about whether or not this should be the ending, but rather I'm merely arguing that there is a high possibly of this actual being the ending. More specifically, the final 20 minutes of the show.

I’m well aware the writers have claimed that theories that “it was all a DnD game” are bogus. However, they have clearly lied to us many times to conceal spoilers. So, let’s try not pick and choose what they say is gospel, and what should be taken with a grain of salt.

Also, I will add that I have already made a theory post similar to this. Although I am likely wrong about many aspects of that theory, I do still agree with the general concept. This post is more of a basic summary of the framed narrative clues.

The Show Itself is Framed as a Novel

To put it very simply, the show is presented to us like a novel. Each episode is a chapter, each season a sequel, and when split they are in volumes.

Another Universe

Most of us have accepted the possibly of there being another universe beyond what we know. I agree with this. However, I believe that this universe we are seeing (the show) was created by characters within the other universe. Much like how Mike creates another universe whenever he DMs a campaign...

The world where none of this tragic stuff ever happened? Well, it definitely does exist... but... it's not "out there". Instead, that's the story we know within the show. The story that likely has a gay ending (both meanings of the word).

In other words, the story we are shown is the "watered down" story.

Finishing the Story and Changing the Ending

If you read the comics, you will find a blatant reoccurring theme of writing stories, and finishing said stories. While the comics are not necessarily canon, they remind us of the important themes of this show.

In The First Shadow play, we are reminded again of the concept of writing our own stories, and more specifically…. Changing the ending. Making the ending happy and gay.

We even had a leak reveal that El apparently says “they don’t get to write the ending, but we do.”

We also had an entire Stranger Things novel written in the format of a “Choose Your Own Adventure” book, where we, essentially, choose the ending for the characters.

This is a reoccurring concept within and beyond the show for a reason.

Frame Narratives

Within the show, we are frequently reminded of the concept of framed narratives. It is, essentially, a story within a story. Basically, there are at least two stories: the story that is the painting, and the story that exists within the frame of said painting.

The First Shadow play itself is a framed narrative, as it is a play within a play. They perform the play “Dark of the Moon” within the play itself.

We are also introduced to the concept of “memories within memories” which is a literal track on the ST4 soundtrack.

Why This Concept Fits the Themes

As most of us know, a major theme within the show is the concept of free will vs. determinism. Are we all prisoners of fate, or do we have any agency over our lives?

This theme would extend to the characters written within a novel. The author is their “God” or rather the “Puppet-master”. Perhaps the characters will take on a life of their own and persuade the author to change their ending to a happier one?

Who is Writing the Story?

This answer is simple. Which main character is a writer? Mike. He is “the heart” of the story. However, Will likely helped bring the story to life with his art.

Even way back when pitching the show as “Montauk” the writers slipped in clues within the character descriptions.

All these four boy dealt with bullying, however, only two of them utilized fantasy and imagination to “escape”/“retreat” from their lives and insecurities. Mike and Will.

Why Are They Writing the Story?

*Sign* Okay here is the difficult part to explain… the unpleasant stuff. Everyone hates this I know. Please put the pitchforks down.

Let’s go over some of the previous stuff I’ve mentioned.

A universe where none of this tragic stuff ever happened

A watered down story

Changing the ending to a happy/gay one

These all imply that the universe that exists beyond the show... is a tragic one.

To make this abundantly clear: the main story's conclusion is a happy one! However, the reason why it exists in the first place is because it was created in a universe/story with a tragic ending.

This story exists so the ending can be altered. This is the point.

So What is the Story Beyond this Story?

I... don't know exactly. But I have some ideas.

The main idea I have is that: Will passed away... for real. And he left behind his art which Mike cherishes.

Mike created this story for Will to change his ending and utilized his art as inspiration. He also utilized science as a way to explain the supernatural concepts we see.

Why do I think this? Many reasons. For one, Mike appears to constantly be battling grief throughout the show. Shifting from denial, bargaining, depression, anger but never quite reaching acceptance. He also frequently expresses his fear of losing people: mainly Will and El. PLUS, we have many references to stabbing hearts, broken hearts... and Mike himself is referred to as "The Heart". His heart is broken and ridden with grief because he actually did lose Will.

I have also previously analyzed the many letters shown within ST and how they are associated with... death, as well as a watered down story.

This all leads to...

(Yes I am plagiarizing myself here. lol.)

Now before I breakdown what I believe fits into these blanks, I want to clear up a couple of things that have been brought up before:

“This letter was just revealed to be a letter from the ST writers to us fans during ST day years ago.” Yes that is true. However, I doubt they would just post it like this if that’s all it meant. That’s pretty lame to be honest. We know they love to be vague and cryptic with their clues of what’s to come in the show, why wouldn’t they be doing that here as well? Plus this letter fits perfectly with the set up I just described. Perfectly. I’ll explain that soon.

“This is… not about a couple”. It isn't. Simply because only one of them is alive at this time...........

Now let’s properly break down the letter.

“anyway I think you’ll ____ sorry I couldn’t get it done ____”

These lines imply that the writer of the letter attached something to it. The writer likely thinks the recipient will like whatever they attached.

The writer then apologizes about something. The wording makes it seem like they’re apologizing about not completing whatever is attached on time. If time is what they’re apologizing for, this is likely Mike writing this. Mike has been associated with running late many times throughout the show.

This is my guess: “anyway I think you’ll like [the ending]. sorry I couldn’t get it done [on time]”

The next part is easy and was confirmed by the writers:

“but you mean so [much to me]”

Obviously whoever wrote this letter cares deeply about the recipient.

“and it’s been [so hard being without you]”

I guessed this part. The writer is making an excuse as to why they weren’t able to complete something on time. It makes sense that the writer was struggling from being away from the recipient and thus that was the excuse for the delay. This would make even more sense if the writer was struggling with grieving the recipient.

“hope this is [enough to] last until [we meet again]. Love, [Mike].”

The “enough to” was simple enough to complete, not much else can fit in that context.

I guessed the “we meet again” because it's fitting. It also implies Mike will reunite with Will in death. Blue meeting Yellow in "the west" (where the sun sets).

Now, the date “November 6, 1983” is there because…

The attachment is the complete story of the entire show, beginning on that very specific date. The book attached to the letter, or the “book of letters” if you will. Mike wrote the story, or rather finished the story for Will. He couldn’t “get it done on time” because Will likely passed on prior to the completion of the story. He wrote the story, which is the “watered down” version of the true horrors he and Will experienced, and others too. The story was written so he and Will could survive everything in the end and become heroes forever and ever.

[antiterf]

Its kind of ridiculous how difficult it is to find critical intersex literature if you don't know where to look.

That said, here are frequently cited things I've found. For the one's that are behind paywalls, I have a Google Drive folder set up to hold them for access. The only things I leave behind a paywall are books by individual authors. They are not organized at all, I'm sorry.

Intersex Variations Glossary by InterACT

Narrative Symposium: Intersex—Narrative Inquiry in Bioethics (NIB) Volume 5, Number 2, Summer 2015.— Trigger warning for intersex genital mutilation (IGM), sexual assault, and medical trauma—it's honestly a lot but incredibly important. (Drive)

A human rights investigation into the medical "normalization" of intersex people - A report of a public hearing by the Human Rights Commission of the City & County of San Francisco

Surgical Progress Is Not the Answer to Intersexuality - Cheryl Chase. - TW for IGM and images of genitalia (Drive)

The Intersex Roadshow, a blog of Dr. Cary Gabriel Costello - Costello is an intersex trans man and tries to bridge the gap between trans and intersex issues

Beyond Binary Sex and Gender Ideology - Cary Grabriel Costello - Chapter 12 of The Oxford Handbook of the Sociology of Body and Embodiment (Drive)

Transgender and intersex: theoretical, practical, and artistic perspectives (book/textbook) (Drive)

Intersex: Stories and Statistics from Australia (Book) (Open Access)

Fixing sex: intersex, medical authority, and lived experience (Book)

The harms of medicalisation: intersex, loneliness and abandonment (Open Access Article)

Intersex: cultural and social perspectives (Open Access Article)

Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights (OHCHR) - Technical Note on the Human Rights of Intersex People. Basically, if you want an easy way to say that doctors are going against human rights by performing IGM.

An experimental philosophical bioethical study of how human rights are applied to clitorectomy on infants identified as female and as intersex (Open Access Article) - People were more likely to support the same surgery on infants labeled as intersex than they were on infants labeled as female.

Caught in the Gender Binary Blind Spot: Intersex Erasure in Cisgender Rhetoric by Hida Viloria - About how cisgender often doesn't accurately express the experiences intersex people have. Costello, mentioned earlier with Intersex Roadshow, coined Ipsogender for this reason.

Introduction for Intersex Activism - A guide for allies

Sex, Science, and Society: Reckonings and Responsibilities for Biologists (Open Access Article)

Contesting Intersex: The Dubious Diagnosis by Georgiann Davis - TW for medical trauma

Spectacles and Scholarship: Caster Semenya, Intersex Studies, and the Problem of Race in Feminist Theory by Zine Magubane (Drive)

Owning Endosex Privilege and Supporting the Intersex Community: WPATH, Intersex Genital Mutilation (IGM), and Sex Variant Bodies by Margo Schulter

The Spectrum of Sex by Hida Viloria and Dr. Maria Nieto

A long way to go for LGBTI equality from the European Union Agency for Fundamental Rights - Before the UK left the EU

If anyone wants to add, feel free! This was the non-medicalized stuff I had saved in Zotero, and definitely not all that's out there.

[bloomzone]

2025 : #25 how to be a brand new person

Imagine looking in the mirror one year from now and seeing someone completely transformed ? Not just different clothes or a new haircut, but a fundamentally evolved human being with new patterns of thinking, behaving, and engaging with the world. This comprehensive transformation is not only possible but follows predictable psychological principles that we can understand and apply systematically !! (It's easy)

Understanding the science of personal reinvention

Before we explore the practical steps, let's understand what happens in your brain during major personal transformation. Your current identity exists as a complex network of neural pathways that have been strengthened through repetition over years or decades. Every time you think a familiar thought, react in a typical way, or engage in habitual behavior, you're essentially walking down a well-worn mental path.

Think of your brain like a forest where certain trails have been walked so frequently they've become highways. ur automatic responses, emotional patterns, and behavioral tendencies represent these heavily traveled neural routes. Becoming a brand new person means consciously creating entirely new pathways while allowing the old ones to gradually fade from disuse.

This process leverages neuroplasticity, which is your brain's remarkable ability to reorganize itself throughout your entire life. Scientists have discovered that you can literally rewire your brain through conscious effort and repetition. The key insight here is that your current personality and patterns are not fixed traits but rather learned responses that can be unlearned and replaced.

Phase one: Deconstructing ur current identity

The first step in becoming brand new involves taking an honest inventory of who you currently are. This isn't about self-criticism but rather about developing awareness of the patterns that define your present existence. Most people operate on autopilot, unconsciously repeating the same thoughts, emotions, and behaviors day after day . Begin by observing urself as if you were a scientist studying an interesting subject. Notice your automatic thoughts throughout the day. What stories do you tell yourself about your capabilities, your worth, and your place in the world? Pay attention to your emotional patterns. What triggers you consistently? How do you typically respond to stress, conflict, or unexpected challenges?

Examine your daily routines and behaviors with fresh eyes. What time do you wake up and what's your first action? how do you move through your morning routine? What conversations do you have with yourself in the shower or while commuting? These seemingly minor details actually form the foundation of your current identity.Consider your relationships and social patterns. Who do you spend time with and what roles do you play in those relationships? Are you the helper, the entertainer, the problem-solver, or the listener? Notice how you present yourself differently to various people and which version feels most authentic versus most performed . this observation phase typically takes several weeks cuz you're identifying patterns that have become invisible through familiarity. keep a simple journal during this period, noting observations about your thoughts, feelings, and behaviors without trying to change them yet. Think of this as creating a baseline measurement before beginning your transformation.

Phase two: designing ur new identity

Once u understand your current patterns, you can begin consciously designing who you want to become. This requires moving beyond vague wishes like "I want to be more confident" to creating a detailed profile of your new self that feels both inspiring and achievable.

Start by envisioning your transformed self in specific situations. How does this new version of you handle a stressful work meeting? What does their morning routine look like? How do they respond when someone tries to provoke an argument? The more specific and detailed your vision, the more your brain can begin creating the neural pathways to support these new patterns. Consider the core values that will guide your new identity. Perhaps your current self prioritizes avoiding conflict, but your new self values honest communication even when it's uncomfortable. Maybe ur current self seeks approval from others, while your new self operates from internal validation and clear personal standards. Think about the energy you want to embody. Some people transform by becoming more dynamic and outgoing, while others evolve by developing quiet confidence and thoughtful presence. Neither approach is better than the other, but clarity about your desired energy helps guide all other aspects of your transformation.

Design new thought patterns that align with your evolved identity. If your current self thinks "I hope I don't mess this up," your new self might think "I'm curious to see how I'll handle this challenge." These shifts in internal dialogue create ripple effects throughout your entire experience.

Phase Three: physical and environmental transformation

Your external environment & physical presence play crucial roles in supporting or undermining your identity transformation. Think of your surroundings and appearance as constant feedback loops that either reinforce your old patterns or support your new ones.

Begin with your physical space because it influences ur thoughts and feelings more than most people realize. ur living environment should reflect and support the person you're becoming ofc rather than the person you've been. This doesn't require expensive renovations ofc but rather intentional choices about how you organize and inhabit your space. Remove items that connect u to aspects of your old identity (I do this every year it's so helpful !) that you're ready to release. This might include clothes that make you feel frumpy or unsuccessful, or decorative items that represent a version of yourself you've outgrown. Replace these with objects that inspire and remind you of your evolving identity. Consider how your new self would organize their living space. Someone transforming into a more disciplined and focused person might create clean, minimalist environments that support concentration. Someone evolving into a more creative and expressive identity might introduce vibrant colors, artistic elements, and inspirational materials !!

Your physical appearance serves as both an internal anchor for your new identity and an external signal to others about how you want to be perceived. This doesn't mean conforming to superficial standards but rather making choices that feel authentic to your evolving self. Perhaps your new identity calls for a different style of dress, a new haircut, or changes in how you carry yourself physically. Pay particular attention to your posture and movement patterns because these communicate volumes about your internal state. Someone undergoing identity transformation often discovers that changing how they move through the world actually helps shift how they feel about themselves. Walking slightly slower with better posture, making more direct eye contact, or using more deliberate gestures can create immediate shifts in both self-perception and how others respond to you.

Phase Four: cognitive and emotional reprogramming

The MOST profound aspects of becoming a brand new person involve rewiring your thinking patterns and emotional responses. This requires understanding that ur thoughts are not facts but rather mental habits that can be consciously changed through practice and repetition. Start by identifying the core thought patterns that define your current identity. Common examples include catastrophic thinking, people-pleasing tendencies, perfectionism, or chronic self-doubt. Your new identity requires replacing these automatic thoughts with patterns that serve your evolution (it's so so helpful trust me).

Work systematically on emotional regulation because your emotional patterns are deeply connected to ur sense of identity. Someone who transforms from reactive to responsive has learned to observe their emotions without being controlled by them. This doesn't mean suppressing feelings but rather developing the ability to choose your responses consciously (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠)

Practice what researchers call "emotional granularity" by developing a more sophisticated vocabulary for your internal states. Instead of just feeling "bad" or "stressed," learn to identify whether you're feeling overwhelmed, disappointed, frustrated, or anxious. This precision helps you respond more effectively and develops emotional intelligence.

Phase Five: Behavioral integration and skcial transformation

Your new identity must be expressed through consistent behavioral changes for the transformation to become real and lasting. This phase involves systematically replacing old behavioral patterns with new ones that align with who you're becoming.

Begin with small, manageable changes that can be implemented immediately. If your new identity involves being more disciplined, start with simple practices like making your bed every morning or preparing your clothes the night before. These seemingly minor behaviors create momentum and reinforce ur evolving self-concept !

Pay careful attention to your communication patterns because how you speak reflects and shapes your identity. Someone transforming their presence might practice speaking more slowly and deliberately, using fewer words but with greater impact. Others might work on becoming better listeners or learning to express boundaries more clearly. Consider how your new identity navigates social situations differently. Perhaps your transformed self is more selective about social commitments, choosing quality over quantity in relationships. Maybe your new identity involves being more authentic in conversations rather than performing to please others !

Expect some resistance from people in your existing social circle because your changes might challenge the dynamics they're comfortable with. Some friends or family members might unconsciously try to pull you back into familiar patterns because your transformation makes them question their own choices. Developing the skill to maintain your new identity despite social pressure is crucial for long-term success 🪄 . Practice what psychologists call "implementation intentions" by creating specific plans for how you'll behave in various situations. Instead of hoping to be more confident, decide exactly how you'll handle specific scenarios like job interviews, social gatherings, or difficult conversations. This preparation helps ur new behavioral patterns become automatic more quickly.

Phase Six: Integration and Maintenance

The final phase involves developing systems and practices that maintain your transformation over time while allowing for continued growth and adaptation.

Create daily rituals that reinforce your new identity. This might include morning visualization exercises where you mentally rehearse being your transformed self, evening reflection periods where you review how well you embodied your new patterns, or weekly planning sessions where you align your activities with your evolved values.

Develop what researchers call "identity monitoring" by regularly checking whether your thoughts, emotions, and behaviors align with the person you've chosen to become. When you notice yourself slipping into old patterns, treat this as valuable information rather than failure. These moments show you where additional work is needed and provide opportunities to strengthen your new neural pathways. Understand that setbacks are normal and expected parts of the transformation process. Your old identity patterns have been strengthened over years and won't disappear overnight. When you catch yourself thinking, feeling, or acting in familiar ways, simply acknowledge what happened and consciously redirect yourself toward your new patterns.

Understanding the timeline and realistic expectations

Research in neuroscience and psychology suggests that significant behavioral changes typically require between 66 and 254 days to become automatic, depending on the complexity of the change and individual factors. Identity transformation, being more comprehensive than single habit changes, usually unfolds over 12 to 18 months for substantial shifts.

Sooo expect the process to happen in waves rather than linear progression. You'll have periods of rapid change followed by plateaus where changes integrate and solidify. Some days you'll feel completely transformed, while others you might feel like you're back to square one. This fluctuation is normal and doesn't indicate failure.

The most important insight about becoming a brand new person is that you're not actually changing your essential self but rather removing layers of conditioning and learned patterns that may have obscured your authentic nature. True transformation feels like coming home to yourself rather than becoming someone foreign.

Your new identity should feel like an expansion of possibility rather than a constraint or performance. When the changes feel forced or unnatural, it usually means you're trying to adopt someone else's version of improvement rather than evolving into your own authentic next level.

Remember that becoming brand new is ultimately about conscious choice rather than unconscious habit. Every moment offers an opportunity to choose thoughts, emotions, and behaviors that align with who you want to be rather than who you've been. This conscious choosing, practiced consistently over time, is what creates lasting transformation and allows you to become genuinely new while remaining authentically yourself. ✒️

@bloomzone

[polydeuces]

𝕻𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖚𝖊

𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚘𝚗𝚎: 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯 ; Dexter Morgan x Fem! Reader (Cult Leader)

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰 ; You linger in Dexter Morgan’s shadows, close enough to feel the darkness he hides so well. You know his secrets, his rituals, the thrill he keeps hidden from the world. Silently, you wait for that perfect moment to step into his path—so he can finally see that he’s been hunted all along.

𝔠𝔴 / 𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 ; (688words) mentions of cults, stalking, potential violence, intrusive thoughts, and elements of psychological tension.

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ | ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ

He was supposed to be the predator.

You’d watched him for a year now, the man who walked through the world with an all too familiar blend of invisibility and quiet command. Dexter Morgan, a blood–spatter analyst by day and something far more dangerous by night. But those were his surface-level disguises. You’d begun to peel back the layers, unraveling the nuances of a man who navigated life in the shadows, just as you have for so many years now.

It started innocently enough—fleeting moments when you’d caught sight of him on the crowded Miami streets, merging into the sea of faces like he belonged there. But you knew better. You knew what it was to wear masks, to walk amoung people undetected, unseen and unnoticed. There was something about him, the way he looked at the world, made him all the more intriguing.

So you watched. Carefully, hidden, with a patience you’d honed over years of practice, you observed him as he slipped out of his office at night, slightly tense in his gaze, focused, distant, as if he were listening to something only he could hear. Often times, you’d follow him to the places he frequented; his home, abandoned warehouses, places where the thin line between light and darkness blurred. You learned his routines, the way he’d pull his signature black gloves onto his hands, the way his eyes would sweep across the streets with a meticulous attention to detail before stepping into his own hidden rituals.

It fascinated you.. his dance, this performance between worlds. His life was a careful balance of precision and secrecy. And then there were his victims. You’d seen him work, watched from the edges as he sized up those he deemed worthy enough. You hadn’t intervened— after all, it wasn’t about them. It was about him. You needed to understand his purpose, what drove him and what rulebook or code tethered him to this life.

You began to study his life beyond the night as well, picking up pieces of Dexter Morgan, the man, the father, the blood-spatter analyst, the widower, the mask. You’d slip into his world unnoticed, lingering at places he went during the day; you listened to his colleagues, his sister and the casual comments that painted a picture of someone, friendly, yet distant, the “nice guy” who kept to himself.

You learned his patterns, his preferences, even the small, old habits he indulged in when he thought no one was watching. You uncovered the Dexter he showed to the world, the façade that kept his true nature hidden.

But you could see it—the subtle tension in his jaw, the guarded look in his eyes that surfaced when someone got too close, the small tells of a hidden life. The knowledge inside you—the kind of intimacy that was both exhilarating and forbidden—you knew him in a way no one else did, knew him not by the lies he told, but by the silence he kept.

So, you kept waiting, biding your time. You wanted him to know that he been seen, that he wasn’t as invisible as he thought. You wanted him to understand that he was no longer the only one who lived by a code of shadows. You watched him for countless nights—slipping in and out of his world like a phantom, leaving a sense of unease that you knew would begin to gnaw at him.

Until finally, one night, you decided it was time.

do not repost/duplicate on other sites. © polydeuces 2024.

note; i have a taglist open for updates on this story—just let me know if you’d like your name added !

important; please keep in mind that the dexter character is not my own original creation; it’s inspired by the work of the creators behind the tv show.

[mochi-kisses]

Secrets (18+)

Chapter 1 of 2 - Katakuri x (Accountant) Fem! Reader

3.5k words

warnings: nsfw, size difference, oral, possessiveness, not beta read, i don't know why i made reader an accountant

You’d only moved to Totto Land within the year, but managed to land a decent job working in Komugi Island’s governing body thanks to your previous job at a sugar mill.

Working for pirates was new to you, but finances were not. Calculations of purchases and order slips covered your desk as you punched numbers into a snail calculator. Your notes were impeccably detailed and color coded, and they had to be. You had inherited a rather messy situation. You’d been taken on to balance the books—your hire a personal request from Katakuri, who had become concerned that the previous assignee had been pocketing berries and corrupting the financial balance of Komugi’s wheat production. You found that his concerns were well founded.

Katakuri clearly had the skills to be performing this work himself, but his role as minister kept him busy. It gave you some comfort that he had a level of familiarity with your work, as you were the current lone employee within Komugi’s finance department. Everyone else had been ran off by the corruption scandal, so you were alone in the office.

Moving to a new area with no friends, no family, you had no one to talk to except this large man working down the hall whose work ethic matched your own. It was nice to have someone around who understood your struggles, even if it was because you were the only two people left in the donut-shaped building after the sun set, plucking away at complicated problems that others had left behind.

Over time, you grew fond of him. Seeing the shadow of his large frame pass by the hallway near your desk and the familiar clinking of his spurred heels became reasons to stay. And you wondered if he felt the same. But you were a nobody. Just a random accountant filling in for a department shattered by corruption, up to your ears in work.

And yet, one day, the soft leather of the worn glove on his hand brushed against your body as you walked past him.

The next day, you caught the edge of his glance as he’d been looking at you. He pretended to be looking somewhere else.

A few months passed, and it continued on in this way. Coincidences. Seemingly manufactured reasons to come near you.  The subtle floury scent of mochi entering your nostrils as he checks for a document just behind your chair—was he watching you?

You thought you might be brave enough to ask why, but every time you gathered up the nerve, something happened. Sometimes, he’d interrupt you with a question. Other times, he’d simply be gone the moment your mouth began to open.    

Sitting at your desk with a pile of work unfinished after most of the work force had already clocked out, you asked questions in your mind. Why was this massive man showing up in the corner of your eye more frequently, more coincidentally…? Coincidence—could it be? The perfect Katakuri, rumored to be able to see the future, is not a man subject to mere coincidence. But to think that he’d have been near you on purpose? Something must be wrong. Was he suspicious of something you did? Could it be that he was wary of your loyalties? Despite your liking of him, you could not comprehend that your feelings could be reciprocated. Everyone liked him. And he was single. He was in his forties, and single.

“In his forties,” you pondered to yourself. Attractive, fit, employed, in his forties, and single. It echoed back and forth in your mind. There’s clearly something bad you don’t know about him, otherwise, he’d be married. That was the logical conclusion. You knew many men and women less desirable who had been hitched for years.

“Maybe he wasn’t single,” you thought to yourself, “or maybe he is now and he has a dead wife and”—, you continued internally, crafting a whole backstory for this man who you truly knew little about beyond the legendary reputation and sparkling politeness. You blinked and snapped back to reality at the sound of a creak.

Katakuri was standing in the doorway, eyebrow raised inquisitively above his fluffy scarf. To your surprise, he spoke. “Break?”

—

Despite your protests that there was still work to do, Katakuri convinced you to take a quick walk outside with him. “Sugar is strength” was one of the most curious arguments you’d heard in favor of dropping work for a meal. But it worked on you. The sugar coated lands of Totto Land were sometimes overwhelming even for someone with the biggest sweet tooth, but you could not pass down a cake. It was Friday, and this week had been especially chaotic. Katakuri’s distracting presence throwing your emotions into a girlish crush, and the sheer volume of work still ahead of you to untangle the web of financial missteps and lies—you could stand to take a little time off to clear your head. And to do it with the man putting your thoughts into a jumble was the perfect excuse.

Side by side, you had walked together to a local sweets shop in the nearby downtown area of Komugi Island. While you’d spent a good amount of time talking to him while seated, you’d not had many chances to stand next to Katakuri. How small you felt as you were at his side, clutching your bag to your chest nervously. You looked at his gloved hand and realized how small your bag would look in his palm if he were to hold it—a mere coin purse for a man his size.

You took three steps for his every one stride of his long legs, but he was not hard to keep up with. He consciously walked slowly so you could keep up, already adjusted to the gaits of smaller beings. You wondered how many people he had walked with, and why. Was this going to be some kind of interrogation? You felt his eyes on you as the hairs on your neck prickled.

—

The moon peeked out through a cloudy window in the overcast sky. You and Katakuri sat together at a table that hardly accommodated his legs on the back patio of the sweets shop, sharing a cinnamon roll donut, each sipping caffeine. You’d ordered a cappuccino, the frothed milk balancing out the bitterness of the espresso, a perfect pairing for a sweet donut, you thought. Katakuri had ordered a vanilla latte, one you noticed he’d stirred an extra packet of sugar into before heading outside to sit with you. It didn’t surprise you that the Sweet Commander had a sweet tooth, but made you smile regardless. It made such a serious man look so unserious.

You shared a rather awkward conversation about the weather, unsure of what to talk about. He didn’t maintain eye contact or seem interested, nor did he reach for his cup, or his share of the donut. Though you could swear parts of it were disappearing every time you looked away. He sat there stiff as a board, hardly looking comfortable. Your fear that you were in some sort of trouble melted away as his lack of charisma softened the waves of anxiety crashing against your mind.

You hardened your resolve, and straightened your posture. “So…was there something you wanted? I noticed you’d been around my office more lately. I combed through my notes, but I don’t think I owe you anything…or am I forgetting something?” You asked earnestly. Katakuri looked away again, off into the distant sky, a visible gulp traveling through his bare chest. “Well…” he responded.

Something in his eyes flashed and a wave of confidence was brought over him. He leaned down close to the table, close to your face, and looked into your eyes.

“I was wondering if you’d go out with me. And before you respond: no, I do not have a dead wife. I’m single, and have been most of my life. Things don’t usually turn out well for me in the romance department.” In your head, the gears turned. “But what about his dead wife. Is he talking about his dead wife?!,” you thought, until you realized he’d already addressed that. You were dumbfounded. Such is the power of Katakuri, the man who sees the future.

You didn’t respond, so he continued.

“You want to ask, “why me?” But the answer is straightforward. I like you. I apologize if I am being too forward,” he said as he sat up straight again, hiding a bit of himself in his fluffy scarf.

He continued. “It’s…it’s okay if you don’t want to.” Your silence was deafening, and with his concentration lost, he scrambled to view the future. He bit his lip underneath his scarf.

Seeing cracks in Katakuri’s armor was endearing, and just made you like him more. Maybe there really was nothing to be afraid of. Everything felt so sudden, so unexpected—how could he like you? Why? When? But you already knew your answer.

You responded simply. “I’d like to.”

—

The man who had once been a mysterious stranger slowly transformed from the other overworked person down the hallway, to a kind and thoughtful partner. As time passed, the love between you bloomed slowly and sweetly, like sweet-smelling flowers growing on the riverbank of a slow-moving stream. Katakuri stayed a reserved man, careful not to impose. He was gentlemanly with a minor sarcastic streak that you’d begun to know. With such a perfect image, you cherished the little oddities that leaked out of his stone exterior.

The way he praised you, respected you, and listened to you speak gave you confidence. While you’d initially been suspicious of his interest in you, you began to realize it was genuine, and you hoped that you could offer him the same reassurance that he offered to you.

—

When he had first revealed his face to you, you found it endearing the way he’d moved so unsurely. There was fear in his eyes, afraid of rejection, or worse, as he craned his neck down towards you in your first visit to his bedroom. You sat together on his massive bed, your feet unable to touch the floor. Attempting to initiate a kiss, you climbed up his body and touched the side of his face gently behind his scarf, planting a small kiss on his ear. He removed the scarf slowly, a bit shakily. He maintained eye contact as if you’d disappear if he looked away or blinked. But once his scarf was removed, you hardly even noticed the fangs protruding from scarred lips as you looked into his eyes and smiled at him, full of adoration, as you leaned into your first kiss together. The extra large teeth felt warm against your cheeks so you kissed them too, causing him to flush a deep red. “Handsome,” you said with a smile.

The next secret of his that he revealed was that of his merienda—the meditative break he’d been known to take once a day in the afternoon with a pile of hand delivered treats to concentrate on. One day, he invited you—come at 3:15pm sharp, and do it quietly. He didn’t want anyone to know that you’d entered. Slipping away from work early, you dressed up in your most comfortable clothes in anticipation of a strength training routine. Little did you know, the workout you’d get was not part of any training regimen…

—

As you entered the harrowed shrine of the mochi halls, you were immediately blasted with a kaleidoscope of pinks, purples, blues, and reds, covered in rainbow sprinkles. Smells assaulted your senses with an overwhelming sweetness that reminded you of your first date with Katakuri. You walked forward, stunned by what you were seeing, and stepped directly onto an oversized cream filled donut which squirted all over your clothing. You started to slip backward but were caught moments before disaster by your partner’s large arms.

His scarf was already off, you noticed, as he smiled down at you with a bit of pink frosting on his chin. “Careful there, darling.” Katakuri gave you a kiss on the lips. He tasted like a strawberry donut.

“What’s all this?” You asked with a playful tone as you gestured to the interior of his personal mochi palace. Littered with donuts and sweets, you were not entirely surprised that Katakuri had another secret hidden behind that perfect visage of his.

Still carrying you, Katakuri carefully stepped to the center of the donut pile where a stash of large pillows lay. He sat down and rested you upon his lap in a comfortable seated position with one arm on your back, beaming at you with a goofy grin that almost reminded you of a child. It was strange to see his usually serious face painted with such a genuine smile, but you felt it looked natural on him. You wished you could see it more.

“This is the true face of my merienda. The true face of me. It’s my secret,” he spoke from the heart. “I never thought I’d have wanted to share this with anyone. No one, until I met you.”

You blushed. In your time with him, he had always been a straightforward man, but romance was not his forte. He often stood there awkward, stiff, with few words or actions of comfort, no silver tongue to sweep you off your feet. But in this case, his bare-faced honesty, the grin, the little bits of food on his face and clothes added a level of trust you’d not yet breached.

“I feel honored,” you replied. “You’re really not what you seem. You still surprise me every day.”

Katakuri smiled in response. Still holding you, he used his other arm to pick up a beautifully crafted and very oversized yeast donut with frosted glaze that glittered in the sunlight dripping from the small windows in the ceiling. “I saved this for you,” he went on. “It’s my favorite.”

He fed you carefully, allowing you to take a healthy bite of the cherished donut without getting it on your hands or face. Its texture was perfectly light and fluffy, and the sweetness not too overwhelming, balanced with a vanilla flavor that rounded out the flavor.

As you happily let him continue to feed you the wonderful donut, Katakuri pondered. “As you know, this is my daily routine. It helps me keep up with the stresses of my every day life.”

Katakuri’s eyes narrowed, and you felt him inhale sharply beneath you. “…And I can’t help but notice that you need to relax, too.”

—

You don’t know how long it’d been since 3:15pm. How long it took for you and your partner, Katakuri, to finish the helping of fresh, warm donuts piled into the center of the mochi shrine, how long you laughed at how adorable he looked with his mouth full of donuts like a hamster, how embarrassingly long you stared at how large his tongue was, or how long it took for you to climb up his body to look into his eyes like this, your body pressed against his as he laid on his back. But you knew you didn’t want it to end.

Ever-so-gently, you kissed the bits of frosting and pastry off his body. “Mustn’t go to waste,” he teased. You smirked back in agreement, and you felt the tension completely leave his body as he melted into your touch. Your small figure slowly explored the bare inches of him and more, investigating the soft skin under his vest, and taste-testing the happy trail leading down between his hips to unknown pleasures.

Katakuri repositioned, bringing a gloved finger to touch your cheek. Due to his height, his hands were three times the average height of man’s, but his build was slender, and his attention was gentle. The soft lambskin brushed against your face as he looked at you intently, holding your chin up as you moved to sit on his chest.

“Your turn,” he said.

Effortlessly, he removed your dirtied clothes with a single hand, and you sat before him in your underwear. His gloved hand grasped your front, palm flat against your stomach, fingers touching your shoulders and breasts as he circled his thumb on your skin. He continued this for some time, feeling your body, rubbing against you softly. You felt heat building up between your legs, staining your underwear with excitement. You wanted to feel his skin.

You leaned down to kiss the tip of his finger, and reached for the edges of his glove. He allowed you to pull it off, revealing the soft hand of a man who took careful care of his skin. His fingers were long and spindly, hairless, with pronounced knuckles and joints. His age showed in his hands, unlike in his eternally young face. The skin was lightly translucent, showing the veins beneath. He used his teeth to pull off the other glove, and tossed both to the side.

Your eagerness was infectious. Katakuri grabbed each of your legs and spread you open as you sat upon his body, holding onto you with an iron grip. Resting his thumbs just out of reach of your underwear, he looked up at you with an inquisitive brow. You bit your lip and shivered a bit in excitement, and nodded, goading him on.

 He placed the tips of his thumbs against your slick with the lightest pressure, rubbing you up and down with a pace that made you ache for more. The slow up and down motion of his thumbs felt like rolling waves, building pleasurable pressure in your innards. As he watched you begin to lose your composure, he licked his lips thinking of what was to come.

Katakuri rubbed his large thumbs against your clit in varying motions, his skill for this undeniable. Had he been with other women before? You really had no idea, and at this point, you really didn’t care. Your underwear was soaked and you wanted more.

As you pulled at the edges of your underwear, he spurred into action. He snapped them off with a single flick of his fingers, ripping them into an unwearable sheet of cloth, and slid you up towards his face, your depths calling to him. He closed his eyes and inhaled through his nose, exhaling with a grin.

“You smell delicious,” he said with a low grumble.

A little more awkwardly, he continued, asking as his nibbled his lip: “May I taste you? I don’t bite.”

You vibrated excitingly at the thought of his almost inhuman tongue entering your body. How will it feel? It’s so big! You nodded, using your fingers to open your achingly wet folds towards him. His large tongue slipped out from between his teeth as he pulled you into him, resting your legs carefully on his fangs and cheeks as to not hurt you.

Katakuri’s tongue slowly licked and prodded at your entrance, careful to savor your juices with an audible gulp. The flat of his tongue pressing against your ass and pussy felt like nothing you’d quite experienced before. The cool saliva of his mouth and the warm heat building up within you intertwined with the slow rocking of your hips towards him.

His hands slid over your skin, keeping your legs steady and holding you firm, as he increased the pace in which he devoured you. The feeling of his tongue slipping up and down your core was intense, and your body began to shake from the pleasure against his firm grip—every inch of your most sensitive areas were being engulfed with wet warmth and you let out a muffled moan.

Barely able to open your eyes, you peered down at him. His brow was furrowed, concentrated so intently, such perfect concentration, and you watched as he enjoyed the meal he’d made of you. His large hands looked even larger against your thighs, thick fingers pressing into the fat of your leg with a satisfying squish that held you locked in position until he was done with you.

You moaned again, body recoiling, and he responded with a low growl, holding your legs more strongly, with a powerful grip that may leave marks later. If you’d been sound enough of mind, you’d have compared him to a beast who had snapped at someone trying to take its food.

His closed eyes now opened and looked straight up at you with ferocity, as he continued his rapid licking, with a distinct possessiveness you had never seen from him. “Mine,” the words shot into your head from the look in his eyes.

That pushed you over the edge.

Your body suddenly tensed itself so hard that you could barely breathe, barely think. Then a wave of pleasure crashed over you like a great tsunami. With a great release, your heart rate began to slow, your muscles relaxed, as your pleasure spurted into Katakuri’s mouth. Katakuri’s fervent licking slowed to match yours as he marinated in your scent, taking care not to let any of your juices fall to the floor.

Still, he held onto you so tight. Your body felt like it came back down from floating, and you landed firmly in his hands, his face still at your lower half.

Katakuri licked his lips. He found his boldness.

“More.”

He was still hungry.

[keresnotceres]

Good, Good, Great

Ghost x Fem!Reader (And they were roommates)!

[nsfw] cw(s): Jealousy, alcohol consumption, references to smoking, strip club, rdr calls ghost ‘big boy’ several times, suggestive content, non-explicit sex (it’s mentioned), rdr is highkey a brat lol, mention of dumbification.

PART TWO

3.4k words I don’t understand how UK currency works so i guessed, ALSO! Reader is kind of a slut!! Because we don’t get enough readers that have BEEN AROUND TOWN (iykwim) and I am hellbent on fixing that :) ALSO ALSO this kinda sucks and it’s prolly OOC but I spent like four days on it so here u go <33

You’re not dating — but he’s not keen on sharing. He sees you serving another table drinks, scantily dressed, hips swaying with every step, and can’t help but watch with a glare as some other man sets a 20 between your tits.

How Laswell convinced both herself and Price that a strip club was the best place to meet and discuss information on a new mission was beyond Ghost. It wasn’t until two blocks away from the venue did he begin to recognize the surroundings, the streets, and damn it, even the people.

He forwent the skull mask and the skull-patterned balaclava for a plain black surgical mask that left him feeling bare and exposed. Only a thin piece of fabric was between him and his anonymity; two strings that held together the Ghost façade from falling into Simon.

He’d be damned if he told the others that he recognized the club — that he frequented it. Not for a certain stripper, no, not for the girls performing at all. He knew every staff member from the amount of times he’d come to pick you up after your serving shift.

You always smelled like alcohol and someone’s blueberry vape, sometimes weed; you claimed that just came with the job. He’d respond asking if he smelled like gunpowder and metal, if that was the case. He remembered how you shook your head.

“You smell like cigarettes and aftershave.”

He grimaces as they approach the shining lights of the club. Myth is a looming building; five floors, only two used for actual club affairs. The other three were offices or something equally as boring; even if you would prattle on about your outlandish suspicions of a mafia being run up there.

The first floor had the basics; a main stage that was across from the full bar, a plethora of sleek tables and uncomfortable leather chairs filling the space between the two attractions. On the far wall, a few booths with itchy velour couches separated by fake bushes. Doors sat on either side of the four booths, both led to some sort of VIP room that Ghost had never stepped foot in.

The second floor overlooked the stage section of the first, only the dancers could see the people decorating the steel railings. It was usually reserved for the rich people, the important men who had had wives and didn’t want to be seen in the public eye, the men who were desperate enough to pay extra to pretend they could get some, and the people staff liked. Ghost happens to fit into the latter category.

There was a second stage on the upper floor, it wasn’t often dancers were up there performing, they were usually lounging around with someone they knew would paid them well. The was a second, smaller bar which served the singular purpose of storing new bottles, which caused you to complain about having to go up and down the stairs every time you had to get another round for a table.

His constant presence had led to him “befriending” the bartenders (if getting a free drink counted as being friends) and getting half-hired as security (he was roughly the same size as the men they already had for the job), even the hostesses knew to assign him to your section each time he walked in.

It baffled him, to say the least. Even after he was gone for 11 months the one time, (what a god awful time that was), the Myth staff knew who he was.

Ghost didn’t even register Price trying to tell him to stop as he walked to the shiny glass doors of Myth. The thing that dragged him out of an absentminded state was Soap’s obnoxiously loud laughter, Ghost stopped dead in his tracks and spun around to face the rest of the task force.

“Yae walkin’ right in like ye own the place, eh, Lt?” He had a conniving grin on his face. “Didnae take you for that kinda guy.” Gaz looked like he was trying to picture Ghost in a club, Price only looked at him with mild amusement on his face.

Ghost glares at Soap, embarrassed. “I’m going where we were told to go.”

“Wasting no time, either.” Gaz manages to crack a smile from Price with his chide.

“Are we going in, or not?” Ghost’s eyebrows raise in questioning, his patience already running thin. He looked over his shoulder at the bouncer, who he wishes he didn’t recognize as Paul.

Gaz had already fished his ID out of his pockets, the graying white background of the Royal Air Force card reflecting the sign lights. Soap wasn’t far behind him, most people who see someone with a mohawk assume it’s a teenager who lost a bet. Anyone could look at the Captain and know he’s over the age of 18, no college student could rival the man’s facial hair.

And Ghost? All he had to do was look Paul in the eyes and he was let though without even a second glance. It was no different than if he were just coming in to pick you up, although it was considerably earlier than your usual 2 AM clock outs. Ghost forgot the club was even open at 5 PM.

He got an odd look from Soap at the lack of identification, but odd looks from Soap were a daily occurance.

The club looked the exact same as when he’d left 4 months ago, the same blue-purple lighting, same ugly silver bead curtains hanging over the walls, and the same Thursday night bartender. His name was something along the lines of Tony (Tim?); Ghost hadn’t particularly cared about him, he’s never at the club on Thursdays anyway. Your shifts are normally on the weekends, only the occasional Thursday if there was an event.

The hostess seems to be familiar, too. She’s either Camille or Angelica; he could never really remember who was who. The two have the same bleach blonde, blue eyes, and freckles; they’re practically the same person to Ghost. He really only pays attention to you when he’s at Myth.

The hostess stares at Ghost for a second, as if trying to recognize him. Before she could try to speak, Price cut in.

“We’re meeting someone here. Blonde hair, a little older.” His eyes scan the half-empty floor of the room. “She might be upstairs?”

The hostess perks up at the mention of a woman. “Right. Follow me, please.”

The blonde led the group of them upstairs, two of the 20 tables had people at them. Only one of them had a Laswell-looking woman at them. The other was a group of seven men; each in a suit, and each with a glass in their hand.

Once the hostess set a few menus on the table, she spoke a final time. “Your server will be right over.”

Ghost let the others sit down before him, eyes lingering on the group of men across from them before they slid over to Laswell. She looked as comfortable as any other person in a strip club by choice, lounging back in her chair with a cocktail in her hand.

“You look disgruntled,” she notes, eyes resting on Ghost.

“You had us meet in a strip club,” Ghost mutters. “This isn’t my usual scene.” It was quite the lie, really. He’s spent more time here than any other pub in the Manchester area at this point.

“It’s close to home.” She takes a sip of her drink, completely at peace. “And it’s unsuspecting. Who comes into a strip club to talk about top secret information?”

Ghost looks at her, unamused. “Us.”

Laswell ignores the distaste in his voice. “You don’t have to worry about that group,” her head tilts in the direction of the rowdy group of men. “They’re all drunk or too focused on the girls to even bother listening to us.”

The distant sound of heels against the floor catches his attention, his eyes fly towards the staircase. And there you are, flouncing up the stairs with three glasses in one hand and a bottle of Blue Label in the other.

You make your way to the group of men, a customer service smile plastered on your face. Ghost can’t hear your words, but he watches you set the bottle down in front of the most important-looking man, along with two of the glasses you were carrying.

He watches as your shoulders bounce when you laugh at something he says, though it looks like the fakest giggle you can muster.

He watches as the man takes a 20 pound note from his pocket and tucks it right between your tits. On instinct, Ghost’s hands tighten into fists and he glares. It’s a sharp glare, one he’d give to some idiot recruit that tried being cocky. You gasp, then smile brightly at the man, he can tell you’re saying thank you profusely from the way your mouth is moving.

You step away from the man and Ghost’s eyes fly from him to you, and his glare drops into a normal enough look, but his fists are still tight; his fingernails dig into the palms of his hands.

Ghost’s eyes roam your body, how the little black skirt you’re wearing rode up just enough that it would be considered a tease, how the black shirt you’re wearing is just a little too tight around your tits, and the 20 pound note that was stuck right between the two of them. He had to consciously unclench his fist before anyone would notice.

Then you come prancing over, hips swaying almost hypnotically as you walk, a glass of bourbon nestled in your hand.

You smile sweetly as you bend down in front of him, showing off both your tits and the note right between them, and set his glass on the table.

“I believe that’s for you, big boy.” Fuck, he missed hearing your voice, the nickname flies over his head through his stupor. Even if it was the faux, sultry version of it you used for work. “Can I get the rest of you anything? A beer? Whiskey?”

It was almost impossible for Ghost to tear his eyes away from you, rather, that damn note between your breasts. He wanted to pluck it out and throw it right back at the other man, replace it with something bigger, better.

When he notices Gaz’s disturbed stare, his eyes avert from you.

Gaz’s eyes trail from his to yours, “I’ll take a Manhattan.”

You smile at him, “of course, is Sazerzac okay?” Gaz nods shortly, glancing away from you to avoid Ghost’s stare. “Anyone else?” You pivot towards Price, shifting your weight from one leg to the other.

Price angles his head to meet your gaze, squinting through the LEDs of the club. “Gin and tonic,” his eyes don’t leave yours, “Hendrick’s.” An offhand comment from Soap entertains the liquor’s Scottish origins.

You nod along with his words, then tilt your head towards Soap. “Can I get you anything?”

“I’ll have a Coke.”

“I hope you mean the soda,” you muse. You didn’t get any reaction out of the group, not a single smile — how disappointing. “We have the cherry kind, if you’re into that.”

Soap shakes his head, a small frown on his face. “Just normal Coke’ll do.”

You hum absentmindedly, “alright.” Your eyes flicker to Ghost, the smile on your face contorts into a little mischievous one. “Are you going to be wanting the bottle, Simon?”

You really are a vixen, aren’t you? Through grit teeth, Ghost spits out, “no.”

“Alright, then. I’ll be back with those drinks, boys.” A single wink, and you were off. Low heels clacking against the tile floor, hips swaying side to side. Ghost was all too aware of every detail of your retreating body, from the way your hair bounced with each step you took, how the skirt you wore rode up just slightly enough to make his grip on his bourbon tighten.

Ghost fights the urge to get up, grab you by the waist, and pull you onto him. Both his experiences and his logical reasoning say it’s a terrible idea, yet the idea of reminding you who you ultimately belong to is so enticing he could be drooling.

He’s seen you cockdumb; it almost always comes after you pull a stunt like this. Of course, he knows you do it just for the sake of getting him bothered and getting fucked stupid. But he also likes the idea that you do it just for him. You put on a little show.

He finally put it together years ago. Back when you would bring over some pathetic-looking hookup just to see his reaction. When you’d fake moan loud enough for the whole damn neighborhood to hear, then look at him the next morning through your eyelashes all innocent.

At some point, the hookups ended, and you began flirting with customers right in front of him. Just like you had done a moment before.

When your head disappears from view, Soap is the first to attack him vocally, almost gawking after you. “You’re on a first name basis with the bottle girls at a strip club?” He looks incredulously at Ghost, almost jealous.

“Is that why you were in such a hurry to get inside? You knew this was where your flings worked?”

Soap leans in closer, “how often do you come here, LT?” It was question after question from the Scotsman, and despite his inclination towards him, Ghost was getting slowly more fed up.

Ghost set his glass down, “I’m going to the bathroom.” He put his hands to his knees and stood up from the plush seat, eyes scanning the other group one more time before he left his teammates at the table.

It doesn’t take long for him to find you, leaning up against the doorframe to the server’s closet while you wait for another cocktail server to put in a ticket, twiddling your coworker’s Elfbar in your hands until she reaches behind her for the vape.

You hand it off to her and turn to face Ghost, a catty smile adorning your lips. “How can I help you, sir?” Ghost stops a few inches before you and a hand darts towards your cleavage. He tugs the 20 pound note from between your tits, your hands following his to grab for it.

You give Ghost several noises of grievances as he holds the note away from you, a look of slight disgust evident in the ways his eyes narrowed and his brows furrowed.

By the time you gave up trying to reach the banknote, he’d begun digging in his back pocket. “I’d like my tip back, asshole.”

Ghost says nothing in return, no noise or gesture to acknowledge he had heard you. Instead, he tugs a 20 and a 50 pound note from his pocket and tuck the two bills into the space between your breasts. The money from the other man was crumpled and shoved back into his pocket.

You don’t stop him, you’re a bit too turned on to even think of stepping away from him.

“There,” he mutters. “your tip.” He steps back from you, like he was going to leave and go back to his table. You, however, were having none of that.

“Hold on.” Your hand twitches, stopping before it could shoot out to grab his wrist (but you’re smarter than that, you know him). “You didn’t call or anything.”

Ghost frowns under the mask. “I’m not home.” It was a clipped reply, not one you wanted.

“What?” You match his frown, annoyed.

“I’m here for work. You saw the others,” his hand gestures vaguely to the upstairs, “they’re my coworkers.”

You raise an eyebrow, “you work with someone who has a mohawk?” Disappointment flickers in Ghost’s eyes, if it was from your question or just the thought of Soap’s haircut, you didn’t know. The poor man isn't even there to defend himself.

“Is it that hard to believe?” Ghost knows that, yes, it is hard to believe that he worked with a Scotsman with a terrible haircut while continuing to be the infamous Lieutenant ‘Ghost.’

The look on your face screams ‘yes.’

Ghost relents, “listen.” His voice has a certain sadness in it that makes you calm down a bit. Truthfully, you’re pretty damn pissed at him for just showing up out of the blue from God-knows-where, but your expression softens after a few seconds.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Riley.” Your coworker nudges your shoulder to let you know it was your turn to use the kiosk. “Go back to your friends,” you wave your hand in a dismissive fashion. “I’m working.”

Ghost doesn’t budge, even after you’ve ducked between the bead curtains that dangle at the top half of the doorway. You pop back out of the doorway, an unsurprised look on your face.

“Don’t flirt with him.”

Your eyebrows fly up, an incredulous tone flooding your voice. “What?”

“Don’t flirt with him,” Ghost repeats, his eyes boring into yours.

You set a hand on your hip, annoyed. “I’m making money.” The look in his eyes doesn’t change, he’s utterly serious about some random man you’re flirting with for extra cash. A thought crosses your mind, and your annoyance melts into mischief.

“You’re jealous over him?” The way his eyes widen a bit is enough to tell you that, yeah, he is. “Really, big boy?”

And fuck, if you didn’t have him wrapped around your finger by the way you walked, you had him now. All it took was one stupid nickname and Ghost is crumbling into Simon.

“Not jealous,” is his defense. You just soak it in with a grin on your face. You step towards him a little, shoulders forward and leaning down ever so slightly so that your cleavage is a little more obvious, so that the money he stuck between your tits is poking right out at him.

“You sure?” You look up at him, still grinning like your coworker once had when she got a free vape from a customer. “Seems like you’re a bit jealous.”

All he can do is stare down at you, clenching his jaw shut lest he say something he really shouldn’t. But God, does he wish he could.

Really, if it weren’t only 5 PM, he would’ve let you get to him. Let you drag him into an empty VIP room and fuck your words right out of you, leaving you a whimpering, babbling mess. But Ghost — Simon — knows better than to incapacitate you when you’re working.

All he’s left to do is watch as you give him little smirks from across the room, as you adjust your clothes to be just a bit more revealing, as you get close enough that he can smell the remnants of your perfume when you ask him aimless questions. And that’s just what he’ll do once you prance off to get his teammates drinks.

You pat him on his covered cheek patronizingly before you slink away, outstretching your hands for the three drinks cluttered at one side behind the bar. You pass him by, drinks in hand.

“If anything,” you look up to his eyes as you pass him, “it’s the guys you’re with you should be jealous of. You know I like older guys.” That’s enough for Simon to be reclaimed by Ghost.

He follows after you, glowering at your back. You don’t have to look back at him to know he’s scowling at you, but it brings you a slight bit of satisfaction.

“C’mon, big boy,” you hum, “I’ll get you another drink if you tell me his name.” You look back at him once you reach the staircase and climb a few steps ahead of him.

Ghost stares into your eyes like a dead man, you almost think you’ve gone a bit too far. “No.”

You give him an exaggerated pout and turn back to the front to see where you’re going. “If you aren’t jealous, you shouldn’t have a problem with it.”

“No,” he huffs, irritation growing steadily. “Ask again and I’ll have your head.”

You quicken your pace on the last few steps, skirt bouncing from the motion; Ghost doesn’t bother to look away. He follows you back to the table where Laswell and the others are chatting quietly.

You lean down to set the drinks on the table, and Ghost takes his chance. His hands hover around your hips, bulge brushing against your ass as he moves behind you to sit down in his seat.

“Sorry,” he muses in the most unapologetic tone you’ve ever heard from him. It’s Simon’s eyes that look into yours, like a challenge. A really, really horny challenge. “Had to get past you.”

[literaryvein-reblogs]

I’m not sure if you do nsfw words or phrases. But is there something you can post for the writers who need words for sex scenes? Ones that won’t make reader cringe or throw up? And ones that won’t sound repetitive?

110 "Beautiful" Words for Your Sex Scenes

A-E

Agitate - to move with an irregular, rapid, or violent action

Amatory - of, relating to, or expressing sexual love

Ardor - sexual excitement; extreme vigor or energy

Assail - to encounter energetically; to afflict in a manner that threatens to overwhelm

Austere - harsh and threatening in manner

Bemoan - to feel sorry or dissatisfied about

Bestrew - to lie scattered over

Carnal - given to crude bodily pleasures and appetites

Cavernous - suggesting a cavern; composed largely of vascular sinuses and capable of dilating with blood to bring about the erection of a body part

Coax - to gently urge by caressing or flattering

Compulsion - an irresistible persistent impulse to perform an act

Concrete - to become physically firm or solid

Constriction - the act or process of reducing the size or volume of something by pressing

Curvature - a curved surface of an organ

Delectation - delight, enjoyment

Deluge - a great flow of water or of something that overwhelms

Devoir - something one must do because of prior agreement

Dew - moisture especially when appearing in minute droplets

Douse - a heavy drenching

Ecstasy - rapturous delight; a state of being beyond reason and self-control

Enraptured - to fill with delight

Entreat - to make an earnest request; plead

Entwine - to become twisted or twined

Erogenous - of, relating to, or arousing sexual feelings; sexually sensitive

Exult - to be extremely joyful; rejoice

F-O

Fervid - marked by often extreme fervor (i.e., intensity of feeling or expression; intense heat)

Feverish - marked by intense emotion, activity, or instability

Flushed - tinged with red especially in the face (e.g., from physical exertion)

Flutter - to vibrate in irregular spasms

Foment - to promote the growth or development of; rouse, incite

Fragmentize - fragment (i.e., to fall to pieces)

Frisson - a brief moment of emotional excitement; shudder, thrill

Fuse - to come together to form a single unit

Gasp - to catch the breath convulsively and audibly (as with shock)

Gluttony - greedy or excessive indulgence

Harmony - pleasing arrangement of parts

Ichorous - of a thin watery or blood-tinged discharge

Immovable - incapable of being moved

Impetus - stimulation resulting in increased activity

Imprint - to mark by pressure

Impure - lewd, unchaste

Incantation - a written or recited formula of words designed to produce a particular effect

Intensity - extreme degree of strength, force, energy, or feeling

Inundate - overwhelm; overflow

Kindle - to stir up; arouse

Lecherous - given to or suggestive of lechery (i.e., inordinate indulgence in sexual activity; lasciviousness)

Levitating - to rise or float in or as if in the air especially in seeming defiance of gravitation

Licentious - disregarding sexual restraints

Lissome - easily flexed; lithe (i.e., characterized by easy flexibility and grace)

Luscious - sexually attractive; seductive, sexy

Mantra - a statement repeated frequently

Murmur - a soft or gentle utterance

Nectar - something delicious to drink

Nimble - quick and light in motion; agile; responsive, sensitive

Oceanic - vast, great

Overflowing - a flowing over; inundation

P-S

Palpate - to examine by touch

Palpitate - to beat rapidly and strongly; throb

Partake - to take part in or experience something along with others

Pearl - something resembling a pearl; precious

Pining - to yearn intensely and persistently especially for something unattainable

Piquant - agreeably stimulating to the taste; engagingly provocative

Plaint - wail

Plunge - to cause to penetrate or enter quickly and forcibly into something

Propulsion - the action or process of propelling (i.e., to drive forward or onward by means of a force that imparts motion

Pulsate - to throb or move rhythmically; vibrate

Rapacious - ravenous (i.e., very eager or greedy for satisfaction or gratification

Rasp - a rasping sound, sensation, or effect

Relish - enjoyment of or delight in something that satisfies one's tastes, inclinations, or desires

Repine - to long for something

Rhapsody - rapture, ecstasy

Ripple - to have or produce a ripple effect; spread

Salacious - arousing or appealing to sexual desire or imagination

Silken - soft, lustrous; harmonious

Siren - resembling that of a siren; enticing

Slaver - to let saliva or some other substance flow from the mouth

Sluice - to drench with a sudden flow

Sob - to catch the breath audibly in a spasmodic contraction of the throat

Sodden - heavy with or as if with moisture or water; to be soaked

Stirring - marked by much life, movement, or activity

Sublime - to elevate or exalt

Succulent - full of juice; moist and tasty; toothsome

Succumb - to yield to superior strength or force or overpowering appeal or desire

Sumptuous - extremely costly, rich, luxurious, or magnificent

Supple - capable of being bent/folded without creases, cracks, or breaks; able to perform bending/twisting movements with ease

Supplicate - to ask for earnestly and humbly

Surge - to rise and move in waves or billows; swell

Surrender - to give oneself up into the power of another; yield

Svelte - lithe (i.e., easily bent or flexed)

Swirl - to have a twist or convolution

T-Y

Taut - tense; not relaxed; rigid, stiff

Tempestuous - marked by bursts of intense activity

Tenderness - sensitivity to touch or palpation

Throes - pangs, spasms

Thrum - to sound with a monotonous hum

Torrid - ardent, passionate; hot

Undulate - to move in waves; to rise and fall in volume

Unyielding - characterized by lack of softness or flexibility

Unyoke - to take apart; to force apart

Vehement - marked by forceful energy

Vigorous - carried out forcefully and energetically

Vitality - power of enduring

Voluptuous - conducive to or arising from sensuous or sensual gratification

Voracity - the quality or state of being voracious (i.e., ravenous; excessively eager)

Wanton - causing sexual excitement; lustful, sensual

Whet - to make keen or more acute; excite, stimulate

Winded - cause (someone) to have difficulty breathing because of exertion; panting, gasping for breath

Worship - extravagant respect or admiration for or devotion to

Writhe - to move with twists and turns; intertwine

Yearn - to long persistently; to feel tenderness or compassion

Hope you use these words in ways that won't make your readers cringe or throw up, dear Anon! But it's fine if some of them do—as long as you are satiated with your own writing :)

Sources: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 ⚜ More: Word Lists

[serpentface]

A Chi drake carrying a week old chick under his robes. He wears typical robes and headgear that supplement feathers for sun and heat protection, and shoes that protect against hot sands. His legs are almost entirely bare of feathers, a trait common only in the most genetically isolated desert qilik populations of the contemporary.

They are one of the many peoples of the region collectively known as the Deadlands, a massive area of desert stretching beneath the equator and trailing out into grassland and savannah in tropical latitudes of a southern continental mass. In the distant past, this region itself held grassland and open savannah and was predominantly inhabited by humans. It experienced rapid desertification over a couple thousand years due to a changing climate, and now vast swaths of the region are completely uninhabitable to large vertebrates. In the contemporary, the only sophont peoples to permanently dwell within its interior are qilik and some nomadically flying caelin.

The Chi are based around a settlement built upon the remains of an ancient human city and around its lake (once potable, now far too salty to drink or for agricultural uses). This salt lake, while not drinkable, supports the basis of the Chi's survival. They feed primarily on the massive swarms of brine flies that dominate the lakeshores, as well as brine shrimp. Parties of foragers venture beyond their home territory in search of other desert insects and reptiles, and forage the coasts and a few scattered oases. Of particular significance is the seasonal appearance of small, migratory wading birds that stop over at the lake to feed on flies and shrimp. This temporary abundance supplies the majority of their meat intake and is of great cultural significance.

They are in closest contact with the Sisisistse people, a collection of semi-nomadic qilik clans who establish themselves around the region's scattered oases and desert springs. A few Sisisistse clans are allies and trade partners to the Chi, but the majority are hostile due to a long history of territorial conflict and the brutal destruction of one clan by the Chi. The closest desert spring to Chi territory was once home to a Sisisistse clan, who, after trade relations decayed, were driven out by Chi warriors, with many of their number slaughtered. This spring is now a permanently occupied Chi outpost and frequently skirmished over.

They are one of few peoples of the vast Deadlands that have sustained and regular contact with the outside world via a few small coastal ports, where salts and a few rare dyes are traded with seafaring qilik peoples from outside the deserts (primarily for textiles- native textile sources are scarce).

Somewhat rarely among qilik people, the Chi place limited significance on gender roles, with drakes, hens, and faeder all performing most of the same tasks and living fully co-mingled lives. The sexual dimorphism of this population is substantially less dramatic than most qilik, to the point that they are imagined as a race of androgynes by many foreigners. Most individuals have bright red-orange plumage (derived from brine shrimp), which drakes emphasize via contrast with predominantly monochromatic garb. Drakes are still tasked with the majority of childrearing (as is nearly ubiquitous among qilik.)

[scramratz]

Hey so if you dont feel like answering this it's fine & chill and all, you're just a stranger who's comics I like after all. But I've seen you get a few more personal asks & the way you answered them always seemed very nice so. Uh. Here I go. Because I've been rotating this in my mind for the last month or so like it's a shitty fish png

So like. I've been on HRT for a good 4 years now, and I love everything about it. I pass more often as a guy now, though it's hard to say how frequently exactly. But It made me feel comfortable enough to become more gnc again, which is something I heavily suppressed before and early into hrt, because it just was a fast lane to misgendering town which destroyed me emotionally back then. It still hurts a lot sometimes now, but im less likely to get me misgendered these days even with make up and a skirt and all that. Which, sounds great in theory! But now it just makes people yell slurs at me in public instead and shit. It feels like my options in society are either

- put on a gender conforming act that feels like I'm a clown performing for the circus just to get gendered correctly without all the abuse (bad, not fun, hate it, love clowns but hate this)

- keep doing what I'm doing, actually maybe fag it up more! It's fun! (Great now the men are spitting at me again in public. And not in a fun kinky way)

Like I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place man. And I love my friends and they support me and make me happy, and my family (at least the ones I care about) just let me dress like a little freak and dont mind, .... so I feel I should just be able to move on. And I dont have much like internal gender problems tm. Like I haven't figured it out beyond vague I'm a transsexual queer thing dude girl sometimes. But I'm fine with that. That's chill. I know what I wanna look like and be called blabla. What isnt chill is what happens when others perceive me, and that's sorta intrinsically tied to the whole transsexual gnc (?) Thing. So it makes me think about it all the time. I'm just so tired of it. I'm gonna have to keep going I guess because what else is there to do. But some days I just wanna teleport to an alternate dimension where cishet people tm at large finally stopped being the gender obsessed freaks they claim 'we' are

I wish this ask couldve just been like.... peace and love on planet trans... life is great, no notes, let's all hold hands and have a cookie w our HRT... but I just needed to get this out someplace that wasnt my diary or irl contacts

Yea I get where you're coming from. It sounds silly but something that helps me is remembering all the trans folks that came before me. I'll watch documentaries from the 60's-90's about these fabulous transsexuals who lived despite the hate, if even for a short time. A lot of them coped by expressing themselves underground, at balls and bookclubs, and bars. Somewhere cis people dared not go. Those places still exist you just gotta look for em. Besides, I take great pride in carrying on a long legacy of being hated!

[celtrist]

OWNER BAD END ROUTE

Alastor vanished again. He's kept in his owner's little hideaway where no one could think to find him. They've stitched his mouth shut and kept him bound. Whether just by simply tying up, collar, or wall shackles. The restraints will vary.

He does have a shock collar on him at all times, just in case he ever does manage to find a way out. In addition, there is a tracker on the collar, a double measure in case the shocks don't work for whatever reason or his owner needs to take him out. Alastor is treated like a pet with basic training and his meals are served in dog bowls. He's cleaned and taken care of like any good pet owner would take care of their dog.

Alastor passes his time with self-mutilation, sleeping, or trying to fix a radio. His owner gives him new toys on occasion, from as simple as a coloring book to a good bottle of whisky. But they've found the most success in the broken radio they left as a present one time. They frequently give Alastor parts to work on it, but the radio is beyond fixing. It's completely broken and his owner gives it to himself as a good means for controlling, to sate his boredom rather than self-mutilating, and to give Alastor a false sense of hope. The amount of parts accumulated is scattered across the room, and Alastor tends to be defensive about his owner trying to take even the tiniest dials.

They will occasionally give mercy and bring in a working radio to play some music for Alastor. However, they do need to be in the room when they do so, if not only give Alastor a limited amount of time with it.

For the most part, they keep Alastor primarily for companionship. Having his head in their lap, cuddling, is really what you would want a normal pet for. Of course, being more physically intimate isn't off the table, but they do like to just spend time with Alastor and remind him that they own him. They will occasionally pamper and spoil Alastor with access to an actual bedroom if he's being really good for them lately. But his owner both enjoys the moments of being able to spoil him like the good pet he is and the hopelessness they always find in the cold, dungeon-esc room he stays in.

Alastor is more or less mute with his stitched mouth (his mouth opens enough to eat and drink but keeps closed enough so he can't speak), so most of the time he is in a terrible room filled with only silence. Alastor was given very little room for negotiation with his soul owner and quickly realized there wasn't much he could do to get out of his predicament. The place he was stuck in gave no way of escape, and any opportunities to be let out or leave to be pampered in a nicer bedroom wouldn't mean much when his owner could pop him back with no issues.

The best he could do was find a way for someone stronger to help break his contract by force, but then Alastor would just lock himself up in ANOTHER situation he didn't want to be in.

At this point, Alastor was just so tired of everything that, why not just stick with the simple? He didn't like being restrained 24/7 or having little lights and sound in his room, but he had his radio to fix, good meals, and he knew what to expect each day. Hell, as long as he was good enough he could be more or less allowed to stay in that pampered room of his owner's, and that's more or less luxury at that point. Sure Alastor is powerless, silenced, and he's pretty sure he's slowly going insane with how much time he's spend talking to himself (in his head) now that his shadows were gone. But life wasn't atrocious, was it?

Of course, catching glimpses in mirrors startled him. He felt the need to hurt when fixing radios wasn't doing enough. He wanted to LEAVE and he desperately would give anything to have his old life back. Alastor never regretted his deal more than ever, but this was his lot in life. He couldn't perform his end of the deal to get out of it like this, and no one could really help him. The one attempt he had made that should've given no room for his owner to be aware of him leaving had him back on the hard floor of his room rather quickly, and a brutal punishment that led the typically touch-averse deer to be touch-starved and eating up the pets his owner gave once they paid attention to him.

Alastor isn't happy. There's no debate there. But he certainly tries to delude himself into thinking it isn't so bad. He'll plead with his owner every so often, and they'll give a look of genuine debate before sending him back to his room since begging didn't deserve the pamper room. Alastor is completely loss and isn't sure what to do. With himself, for his predicament, his sanity, anything.

But, he has a radio to fix.