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bloompompom · 11 months

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Tits for Tat

I hope you have a good idea about how you're going to pay for that tattoo...

✦ written for @bastardblvd's slimeball collab event! ✦ pairing: sleazy tattoo artist!eren jaeger x sweet sorority girl!reader content: ~6.7k word count. female reader, dubcon elements (sex in exchange for a tattoo), manipulation, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, brief oral sex (m!receiving), rough sex, corruption kink, dirty talk/light degradation, exhibitionism kinda sorta, light impact play, mirror sex, explicit language, explicit sexual content, content some readers may view as dark. reader discretion advised. 18+

The last thing you expected was for girls’ night to end like this.

It was just past ten o’clock that Friday night. What was promised to be a night filled with gossiping over wine coolers turned into you and your two friends skipping through the uptown, loudly and practically elbow-locked like the best of chums. Or chumps, depending on whether the onlooker was a glass-half-full or half-empty sort of person.

For any other twenty-something, the night was still young—still in its mother’s womb, actually. Fellow students had started their treacherous journeys across campus, sneaking from their dorms as if no one could hear the conspicuous clamor of bottles each time their backpacks smacked against the backs of their thighs. But for others—let’s say, hypothetically, tattoo artists—the day was at its end. And that was exactly why your little trio of giggling idiots was making a mad dash before closing time.

The three of you had done everything together, and you meant everything. From ensuring you had the same lunch schedule since grade school, to surviving your awful calculus teacher senior year of high school, you were always at each other’s sides. If one of you didn’t have a prom date, then none of you did.

Like, if not for them, how else would you have gotten through that nasty breakup and lived to tell the tale? When your boyfriend, your first boyfriend—no, your first love—dumped you over the phone six months ago.

You could talk about them forever, really, but all that was to say, they were your very best friends. Sisters in every sense of the word now that you had rushed the same sorority. So what better way to commemorate something as wonderful as sisterhood than matching tattoos? Little crescent moons on your ankles, specifically.

So, as one could safely assume by this point, that tattoo thing you mentioned earlier wasn’t so hypothetical after all. You stepped through the doors of the brick parlor on the corner forty-five minutes before closing. The studio lights were still on bright, and the glow of that obnoxious open, open, open sign in the window spilled red over the sidewalk, as if reading it one time wasn’t enough.

The standee out front proudly welcomed walk-ins with big capital letters. It meant it too, because, after a brief conversation in the back, the receptionist said they had enough time to squeeze you in. The design was simple enough, according to her. ‘Simple enough’ still meant one hundred dollars, though. Shop minimum, blah, blah, blah. You each agreed and quickly signed the paperwork.

You waited for your turns, sitting knobbly-kneed with hands folded neatly in your laps, eyes wide and darting from one another to the art plastered across the walls.

Ten minutes felt more like ten hours, and yes, you could admit this sounded like a much better idea back at the house. But now that you were here, legs sticking to the plastic chair beneath your thighs, you realized how ridiculous this was. How ridiculous you—all three of you—were, looking more like you were ready for a slumber party than a spontaneous night out.

To be fair, you were just at a slumber party of sorts. It just so happened that your guests were also your housemates.

What was merely an offhanded joke from your friend snowballed into the ‘Are we really doing this?’ conversation. You know, the conversation all friends have right before doing something you probably shouldn’t. If your friends jumped off a bridge, would you?

No, of course not. But if the bridge was a tattoo, then the answer was yes. But now you were getting moony and hypothetical again.

Anyway, that was all it took (and some Pinterest scrolling) before you were on your merry way out the door and headed to the tattoo shop down the street—the only one you knew of. You even lacked the foresight to change, dressed in barely a thing since your bedroom lacked air conditioning and it was the balmy end of spring. You kept your arms folded over the Greek letters decorating your tank top, securing its neckline from slipping any further. You had already caught it twice before.

You just wanted to get this over with.

A woman you hadn’t yet seen waddled out from the hallway and, with a voice comparable to a bullfrog, called for your friend. With a tick of her head, she said, “I’ll take ya on back.”

She looked at you, then the friend still patiently at your side. Her left eye drooped a little, like she had a buzz going or something. “Your artists will be out soon.”

“Oh, actually,” you spoke up sweetly, perched a little higher in your seat. “We were hoping to get them together.”

Her expression didn’t change, her eye still drooped. “Listen, if I do that, then I don’t get to go home at eleven.” She leaned into you. You couldn’t help but wince. “And I really wanna go home at eleven, toots.”

Toots. You didn’t care for the nickname, but she frightened you nonetheless. You sealed your lips and waved off your jittery friend. Her mouth was more of a square than a smile as she looked back at you, nervous, and rightfully so. You wouldn’t want to be tattooed by that woman, either. Perhaps getting split up was a blessing in disguise.

It wasn’t long before your name was called out next. By a man, this time. You heard him before you saw him.

You perked your head and were greeted by a guy around your age. Well, maybe a few years older than you, but he wasn’t nearly as ancient as Toots. And at the very least, he didn’t appear drunk. If anything, his eyes looked a bit bored.

For whatever reason, you took it personally. And while it was probably just the hour, you couldn’t help but think he was bored with you. Bored with your little outline of a moon that’d cost him no more than five minutes of work and you one hundred dollars.

Twiddling your fingers, you teetered on over to him. He was dressed in black from head to toe, from the cuff of his jeans to the sleeves of his tee, rolled back to show off the tattoos littering his arms. Fitting, of course. He was exactly what you’d think of if you imagined a tattoo artist, albeit less burly and perhaps… prettier? That wasn’t the right word for it, but you could see it—see him—hidden behind his dark hair, messily tied back with sprigs and strands framing his angular face. Attractive in that bad-boy kind of way. Like, you just know your parents would kill you if you brought him home, but that was sort of hot in its own regard, wasn’t it?

He looked you up and down, just a once-over, and you were suddenly self-conscious of the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra.

“Eren,” he introduced once you were only a few steps away. He was tall and lean and loomed over you.

You kicked yourself for it after, you really did, but you went for a handshake. It was an awkward move, for sure. Polite, but still awkward. One would think he’d take your hand just to shrug the discomfort off, but no, he gave you his back. Not even a ‘Follow me!’ or a second look or anything! And you definitely took that personally. You couldn’t say why you wanted any sort of approval from this man, but you did—a true people-pleaser at heart, as always.

The back of the shop was larger than you had anticipated. You crossed through an open studio space, through the empty stations belonging to artists that, you assumed, had left for the night. You walked by each, passing rooms that appeared to be more private set-ups. Only one door was shut, and you discerned your friend's voice from behind it, then Eren led you to another.

The room was only as spacious as it needed to be for a workstation comprised of a desk, two chairs, and stacks of drawers in the corner. Your eyes flitted over the frames of art on every wall, reminiscent of the front of the shop. You tried to match his style to the work you saw out there.

Eren gestured loosely toward the chair in the middle of the room. You took a seat as he asked, “Ankle, right?”

“Yes,” you said. It sounded meeker than expected. You cleared your throat.

He slumped into his chair, leaning his weight into it to roll closer to the foot of your chair. “Which one?”

You blanked. Seconds struggled by as you fought to remember which ankle you and your friends had agreed upon. One half of your brain scoured your memory while the other kept shouting, ‘Say something!’ because Eren was waiting for you to do just that.

He stared at you while you stared at your ankles. The silence between you grew longer and more excruciating until you finally decided, “Left.”

Almost like he didn’t hear you—or chose not to hear you—he barely glanced at your ankle before sliding even closer. You felt the vibration of his chair’s wheels against the tile, or at least you swore you could. You only watched him ghost the tips of his fingers up your bare leg until he was no longer near your ankle but at your side. He didn’t even touch you and yet you still had to suppress a shiver.

“It’d look better here, you know,” Eren said. He didn’t point at your hip but poked it—the little spot bikini bottoms cover. He peered up at you, eyes locking onto yours with actual acknowledgment for the first time that night. That square-in-the-face sort of look. You noticed the vibrancy of his irises, green and piercing.

“I want it on my ankle. I’m matching my friends,” you replied, but again, there wasn’t much conviction in your voice.

“What if you’re not friends in a year?” He reached for the box on his desk and pulled out two gloves. Between his words was the snap of latex as he tugged them on one at a time. “Then you’re stuck with a dumb ankle tattoo with people you hate.”

It’s not dumb, you corrected in your head. If only he could have heard your inner monologue about sisterhood and whatnot on your walk over here. Besides that, his logic didn’t make any sense. Even if you moved it, then you’d be stuck with a dumb hip tattoo with two people you hate, which was really no different than a dumb ankle tattoo. But then again, fewer people would see it.

Still, the apathy oozing from his voice crawled under your skin. You sassed, “I don’t think that really concerns you, does it?”

“Whatever.” He shrugged as though he were indifferent to it. But if he truly were indifferent, he wouldn’t have mentioned it in the first place. Nor would he have continued with, “All I’m saying is that it’d fit the spot better.” He handed you a clipboard. Pinned to it was a cut-out of your soon-to-be tattoo. “And technically, you’d still match ‘em with the moon.”

He turned back toward the desk while his words lingered. You wriggled your ankle around, inspecting it, then looked at your hip. As if it were still there, you felt where Eren’s finger had been and used it as a reference to envision the tattoo. Maybe you should go out on a limb and trust him, considering he was the professional between the two of you.

“Fine. Let’s do the hip,” you rushed to say. “Do I need to change or anything?”

He peered at you from over his shoulder. “You have on underwear?”

Your face went hot. “Obviously.”

Eren returned to whatever he was doing—you couldn’t see past him. “That works then.”

The moment you stood, thumbs looped under the waistband of your shorts, you regretted relocating the tattoo to your hip.

Tomorrow was laundry day.

‘Why would that matter right now?’ some might ask. Oh, naive one, the reason it mattered was with laundry day just past the horizon, you were left with no choice but to put on your last-resort pair of underwear after your morning shower. A stringy, pink thong that you only saved for special occasions—aka exactly three times with your ex and the days you were too lazy to do laundry, like today.

Listen, you weren’t a prude. It was just that you wouldn’t necessarily choose to show off the skimpiest pair of panties you owned to a complete stranger.

This was nothing out of the ordinary for him, though. Right? It was his job, day in and day out. He’d probably tattooed areas much more private than a silly hip, a million times over even.

But no, his attention is undoubtedly captured once your shorts were off. His eyes flitted from your face, down to your thong, then back to your face. And it certainly didn’t make matters any easier that he had to be crotch-level with you in order to prep the spot.

You didn’t dare to look at him directly, especially once you felt him touch you. More than just a finger this time, he curved his hand around your leg as he quickly shaved and sanitized you for the stencil.

Your cheeks hadn’t cooled off by the time Eren asked, “How’s that?”

You angled your head around strangely until he pointed to the mirror behind you. You spun around to get a better look. He was right: the tattoo did look nice there. Hopefully your friends wouldn’t be too hurt by the last-minute switch.

“Good,” you concluded, still shimmying and studying the new addition to your body.

You caught Eren’s eyes in the mirror’s reflection. He was staring at your ass. Rather shamelessly, too, if you did say so yourself. He made a half-assed attempt to stifle the smirk at the corner of his mouth. You swore you would burn this damn thong after tonight.

You scuffled back into the chair while Eren stood up from his. He threw his gloves in the trash can by the door and told you he’d be back in a few minutes, that the stencil needed time to dry. When he returned, he smelt faintly of cigarettes. There was a waft of it right as his chair whizzed by you.

He situated himself, which didn’t take long, and rested a freshly-gloved hand against you. In it was his tattoo machine, the needle held just centimeters away from your skin. Your body tensed. You weren’t nervous about the pain; it would be over and done in a flash. No, it was Eren that made you nervous. Incredibly so, and you were sure he knew it, too.

“Ready?” he asked you before kicking on the machine, the whirring of it buzzing in your ears. He waited for your nod before starting.

It hurt. Not bad, but the sting was very much present. You finally let out that shaky, anticipatory breath you’d clung to, but it didn’t dull the pounding in your chest.

Eren stretched your skin with one hand and guided the needled with the other. It had been so long that to be touched there, on such an oddly intimate part of you, felt almost foreign. Indecent, in a way, having only been held there by someone you loved—someone who, at one point, loved you in return. How none of Eren’s prodding was inherently improper and still it led your mind astray, craving something as elemental as the touch of another human being, even if it was through the barrier of medical-grade latex.

“Done,” he announced. You sat higher up to get a better look. “That wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

You responded with only a soft, affirmative sound.

Eren gave you a rundown of the after-care process. It was the longest sentence he’d strung together that night, and you didn’t even hear it. It was garbled up in your head, words that you’d inevitably have to find online later. Embarrassingly, you were more focused on the placement of his hand again.

In your defense, Eren was a little more daring now with the needle out of his hand, or at least you thought so, with fingers smoothing low as he cleaned your new ink. His touches dawdled and left you flustered, wondering if he was playing with the thin band of your panties or simply pushing it out of the way.

You were dazy, only snapping back to it once Eren said he could cash you out while you gathered your belongings and redressed. “It’ll be—”

“A hundred dollars, I know,” you said. You scrounged through your purse for your wallet. You tried to hand him your credit card, but he didn’t budge.

“Cash only.”

“What do you mean cash only?” you questioned, more like barked.

That was a head-scratcher. “I’m not sure how I can make it any more clear.”

“Why didn’t you—I don’t know, say anything earlier?” You were upright now, stiff as a board—still in a thong—and verging into panic mode, waving your hand at the cluttered walls. “Or at least, like, have a sign?”

“It’s in the paperwork,” Eren said as flatly as ever.

The paperwork you didn’t read but skimmed—okay, even ‘skimmed’ was an overstatement. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

You sucked in a deep breath, let it hang in your chest until it hurt, then heaved it out. A very basic and very overt effort in collecting yourself. You fingered through your wallet. Then your purse next, every zipper and every pocket of it. You didn’t have cash on you, you never did, but you needed to stall while you hastened to think up a plan. Maybe you could stay and clean. Sweeping, washing windows, that type of thing. Yeah, that could work.

All the while, Eren observed quietly, waiting for your fussing to settle. He was calm for someone who may or may not be paid tonight, and for some reason, it only ramped up your anxiety, like a suffocating hand around your throat.

Eventually, your shoulders dropped with a very heavy—and very annoyed—sigh. “You want to see my boobs or something?”

Eren snorted. Snorted! The audacity of it, as if your offer was no better than a measly I.O.U scribbled onto a napkin.

As callow as your offer was, something about it coming from your innocent pout had Eren’s cock straining in his jeans. It was a final and lasting blow, one he absolutely couldn’t take, not anymore. It was already enough that he had to bear the sight of you in that skimpy fabric you called underwear—had to feel your warmth as he smoothed over your hip. But now, there was just one more thing he couldn’t possibly ignore.

“I think you might want to pay another way,” he said.

Was he teasing you? There was a roundaboutness to his voice. A knowingness. It frustrated you. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

Before you asked, he answered with his eyes. You followed them down not to your tattoo but between your legs. The darkened and unmistakable dampness on the front of your panties. Evidence of you permitting your thoughts to run with reckless abandon.

It was humiliating. Heart-dropping-to-your-ass humiliating. You squeezed your thighs shut. “Hey—”

“What? Are you too good for a quick fuck?”

You almost snapped back with a defensive, ‘No!’ but if you did, what would you be confessing? That you wanted to, and you wanted to do it with him? That your mind had been plagued with filthy thoughts since the second you felt his gloved hand on you. That the most thrilling escapade you shared with your last boyfriend was in the back of his mother’s minivan—which he still drove.

You were certain he could see it. See on your maidenly face that you were actually considering the proposition. In fact, the scale tottered toward that option. It was much more plausible than trying to bolt from the shop with a free tattoo.

Eren leaned into you, his hand dangerously close to your thigh. He froze, almost with a flinch, before making contact. Skeptic brows crowded over his eyes.

“You’re not a virgin, are you?”

“Of course not.” You said it with such force that it sounded like a lie. You had only slept with one person before, your ex, but it still counted.

That damn chair started rolling again. Over to the far corner of the room where Eren flipped on the stereo, then reached for the dial to turn up the volume. You couldn’t name the song, but it was loud, and that was all that concerned you.

Your heartbeat, previously thumping in your chest, was now in your throat. The was anticipation there. Of course it was; you were about to sleep with a stranger in his place of employment. But it was more than anticipation, there was a warmth—no, a heat—throbbing within your very core.

“Ever done anything like this before?” Eren asked.

You shook your head, opting to keep the minivan story to yourself. Truthfully, you didn’t believe you could speak even if you wanted to. Not with his fingers, now freed from his gloves, gliding up your thigh—nearly between them.

He reached underneath your chair to lower it. The surprise of the drop pulled a gasp from you, but when you looked up at him—realized you now had to look up at him to mark the hunger in his grin—your breath hitched. Then and there, it was established that you were the prey here. His prey. And the twisted part was, you didn’t mind it one bit.

Eren’s hand snaked between the crease of your thigh, skimming your panty line. He chuckled through his nose when your stomach instinctively flexed at such a chaste sensation. He toyed with your underwear, for real this time.

“Well, let me be the first,” he cooed, but his voice was as saccharine as artificial sweetener.

He bunched your thong to the side to trace between you. If that alone had you sinuously arching your back, Eren couldn’t help but muse over what more would do to you. Would it ruin you when he pumped a finger inside you? What about two? And once he had you split and bouncing on his cock, how debauched would you sound then?

So pathetically sensitive. He had you mewling, no better than a tiny kitten, once he circled your clit deftly, with the flat of his fingers coated in your slick. Delicate and restrained hums spilled from you despite the way you chewed at your bottom lip, like you thought you could literally bite back the sounds. Cute.

Eren handled you with authority, his touch gentle but at the same time, you knew it would be permanently seared into your skin. He was intentional, even as he stuffed a finger inside you, knuckle-deep.

Your head jerked forward with a whine. “Ah, that’s—oh,” was all you sputtered, your nails digging into the vinyl of the armrests.

He pumped a second finger inside you, expecting your wreckage but only discovered his own. Somehow you sounded more decadent—felt more decadent—than he had imagined. Silken and fluttering around him. Tight but still sucking him in for more. The thought of how snug you’d feel around his cock, how he’d have to bully his way in—

Fuck.

Eren slipped his fingers from you, leaving you panting, desperately clenching around nothing. The overhead light was unforgiving; you could see the sheen of your arousal dripping from his fingers. He stained his jeans with it as he palmed over the front of them, displaying his length to you in all of its glory. You swallowed hard.

The look on Eren’s face was one you could only describe as lascivious. You wanted to avoid it, but to dodge it meant facing the tent beneath his zipper. It was far more intimidating than his devilish gaze, an impatient reminder of how deplorable you were for wanting it.

“So you wanna help me out with this?”

He knew your answer, what with you already sliding off the side of the chair. He didn’t even need to ask. He only did because he wanted to hear your dumb, “Uh huh,” saliva thick in your mouth, as your sultry eyes heeded to the belt he had started to undo.

You wiggled your panties down and you kicked them off your feet. It was a vulnerable position, standing there between his spread knees as he unfastened the button to his jeans, the zipper next. His cock sprung out with a slight bob, like it was heavy. It made you achy. You unabashedly ogled, wondering how it’d fit, until he, like you, was bare from the waist down.

“Turn around,” Eren said. He was unceremonious about it, even stroking himself as he watched you obey without so much as a complaint.

Through your legs, you took his cock between your fingers, running over the length of it, your palm soft, your touch timid. You earned a sharp inhale from Eren, and you did just the same without having to be touched.

It was embarrassing, how you were no better than a touched-starved puppy. That even this—the tip of his cock nudging your clit, twitching in your grasp every time it threatened to dip inside you—had your thighs trembling.

Eren splayed a hand over your back as you took him slowly, sinking onto his cock, reverse cowgirl, with a slight bend to your knees.

There was a stretch. Enough that you had to grit your teeth. Eren was bigger, thicker, than your ex. Not to mention, it had been six months since you’d been dumped. Even longer since you last got laid.

But don’t mistake that for a complaint. It was far from it, actually. You missed the feeling. The moment that knot of pain unraveled itself into pleasure. When a once-clenched jaw goes slack, making space for teeny, breathy sounds to escape. The burn of skin smacking skin, your ass smushed against the tops of Eren’s thighs once you’d taken all of him, little by little, until you were hit with a fullness. It was one you hadn’t experienced before, settling deep in your stomach and making your eyelids flutter shut.

You lifted yourself just to let gravity drop you back down. You were languid, indulging in every vein and ridge of his cock, exploring the newfound feeling.

“Shit, you’re so fucking tight,” Eren muttered, the end of it nothing more than a drawn-out hiss. “You didn’t lie about not being a virgin, did you?”

“No,” you moaned. The rasp of his voice alone had you tightening around him more. “I’ve only ever been with my ex.”

Something about your answer did it for him. You could tell because he whispered, “Christ,” so low you barely heard it. He groped at your ass, spreading you, mesmerized by the sight of your pussy struggling to take him.

When Eren decided you weren’t fast enough for him, already losing your balance with your flip-flops sliding against the smooth tile floor, he firmly took hold of your hips. He pushed and pulled you, up and down, working you over his cock how he wanted.

“Oh—oh, fuck!” you cried out, unable to stifle the whine.

You jolted and squirmed for him. It was ruthless, the way he used you like a toy. But fuck, if it didn’t feel good. Good enough to scatter prickles across your skin, sweltering and shivering, somehow at once, in the cold studio. It was so much. Too much. You needed something to brace yourself on.

Bleary beyond belief, you couldn’t think of something to hold onto in time. Thankfully, it wasn’t you that tipped, but the chair. It rolled until the back of it slammed into the desk behind you. A few things you couldn’t make out crashed to the floor. Eren didn’t react.

From the other side of the wall—hopefully the far side of the shop—you heard a muffled, “Everything okay in there?”

“Just fine,” Eren replied, infuriatingly calmly, fucking you through it, while you writhed just to try and clasp a hand over your mouth.

With the desk as support, Eren leaned back with his feet dug into the floor. His hand curved around your hip—not the side that he tattooed, of course—and flattened it over your stomach. He yanked you down, your back shoved up against his chest, so he could pound into you, deeper than before, with you pliant and at his mercy.

You were an incoherent mess. Babbling at this point. Filling the room with pathetic sounds that didn’t qualify as moans and whimpers but whatever was even less than that. Ohs and ahs and chokes of his name, none of which you could swallow back.

You’d never been touched like this before, have you? There’s no way, Eren couldn’t help but think. Not by someone like him, at least. Someone willing to take what they wanted but also knew how to give—how to get you off—in return. He wondered how far you’d go if he were to lead you.

Eren snaked his hand between your legs, his skillful fingers navigating straight to your clit.

“Didn’t think you’d like this so much, huh?”

You felt every word of it against your neck, but you didn’t answer. He removed his hand from your clit, only for a second but enough to make you miss it, and replaced it with a smack.

You found your voice enough to yelp.

“I can’t hear you,” he condescended.

You almost wanted to stay quiet so he’d do it again, but you were eager to please. Always had been.

Unbelievably turned on, you rolled your hips against his cock, bleating, “So much. I like it so—ah—so much.”

Eyes screwed shut, you didn’t realize until you were halfway across the room that Eren had slid the chair. He had you turned to face the mirror, right in front of it. You were spread, wider, and on display as his slick cock pumped in and out of you. It was a sight lewd enough to be mistaken for a porno.

Your phone, resting on the chair behind you, illuminated in the reflection and caught your attention. There was a moment of panic. It had to be one of your friends. They must be wrapped up with their tattoos by now, left utterly confused as to why you were taking so long.

You hiccuped, “My phone. My friends. They’re gonna—”

For once, he slowed. You wrangled in your breathing but, naggingly close to coming, mourned the loss. Eren outstretched an arm and picked up your phone. Lazily rocking his hips into you, he held out in front of you. You went to grab it, thinking he must have been handing it to you, but he only needed to unlock it with Face ID.

You couldn’t believe he was using your phone while he was inside of you. “What’re you—”

“Buying us time.” He tossed the phone behind him, back into the chair. He didn’t start fucking you again but said, “Get up,” with a smack across your ass.

Your legs wobbled beneath you but luckily, you didn’t need them for long before Eren spun you around and yanked you down onto his lap. His cock, still warm and wet from you, slapped against your stomach as he bunched your shirt over your breasts. He took them between his hands, squeezing them together for him to nip and suck at. You knew he was looking at them earlier.

You tried to angle yourself to ride him, but he didn’t let you. Instead, he chuckled against your skin, “Look at you. Now you’re begging for it, aren’t you?”

Eren took one of your nipples into his mouth, letting his teeth graze over it. You whined much too loudly for the situation, and he solved it with just two fingers, stuffed straight into your mouth. You gagged immediately.

“C’mon. You can do better than that for me, can’t you, pretty?” His voice was like honey lined with acid and burned your stomach just the same. “Take ‘em well, and I’ll fuck you again. How’s that sound?”

His fingers drove deeper into your mouth, mashing down on the back of your tongue. Tears prick the corner of your eyes, but you fought past them. You suctioned your lips around his fingers, swirling your tongue around them like you would his cock.

He sounded no different from earlier when he said, “See? That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” With eyes keen on you, he slipped his fingers from your mouth with a pop.

Eren stood to his feet, but you didn’t expect to go along with him. You didn’t think he’d be strong enough to carry you, for you to swing around with a disgusting amount of ease like a rag doll, but he was and you did. He was so arrogant with it, so ungracious, that perhaps you could re-evaluate your self-worth because you folded to him. A submissive sound squeaked out from the back of your throat the second your shoulders crashed against the wall.

Your legs hitched around his waist, ankles crossed over his lower back, as he pushed inside you again. He hiked you higher up the wall with every thrust, smushing your tattoo between the crease of your skin. You felt the hot sting of it, similar to a papercut, but it fizzled away the closer he coaxed you into coming undone.

Without the bothersome swiveling of the chair, Eren pistoned into you unlike before—which, frankly, you didn’t think was possible. You collided into him with every snap of his hips, grinding your clit against his pelvis so nicely, sparking your body ablaze.

You didn’t want him to get the satisfaction of knowing he made you come. Even as you felt it, how the low part of your stomach tensed with delicious blooms, you stayed quiet about it, tucking your chin to your chest.

But you weren’t as artful about it as you believed yourself to be. Your chest went tight, your breath silent and strangled, and not to mention, you were clenching around him, pulsing like a heart. It was a dead giveaway.

“Comin’ for me?” Fuck. That tore a strained sound from you—how could it not? “Don’t be shy. Let me hear it. Let them hear it.”

Why did he have to remind you of your friends at a time like this? And why did you… like it?

You threw your head back, smacking it against the wall in sobs of pleasure. If they hadn’t heard your moans already, they had to have heard that. The blunt of your nails buried into his ungiving biceps as you rode out the last of your high.

“What a filthy little slut I’ve made, forcing your friends to wait while you come all over this cock.” He punctuated the last word by ramming inside you, deep enough that your toes curled.

After you finished, Eren has his way with you, as if he hadn’t before. He fucked into your willowy body, your mind long gone and fizzy, without restraint. Now, you were only there for his needs.

He panted against you, riled up with his face burrowing into the crook of your neck. He was close; you knew because he made a few breathy sounds against your skin. Then he dropped you to the floor unexpectedly.

“Knees.” Eren jerked himself off while he waited for you. “I wanna come in that sweet little mouth of yours.”

You scrambled to get onto your knees, and what a sight you were, like a faun on its newborn legs. Sweat glistened over your chest. Over your tits—which were out, by the way, with your tank top stretched beneath them. You had on just a singular flip-flop, the right one, without a clue as to where the other had gone.

Eren lined his cock up with your lips. You opened up for him, your mouth a small and tight O with the plush of your lips shielding your teeth. He tilted his hips back and forth, dragging his cock in and out of your mouth and along your tongue. You could taste yourself on him, tart on your tastebuds.

You wrapped your lips around his tip and sucked softly until he cursed under his breath. He brought a hand to the back of your head and pushed you further down his shaft. His other planted itself against the wall to hold himself up while he fucked your mouth. It was rough, but it had you tingling between the legs, greedy and ready for more.

Eren groaned after a few erratic bucks. You gazed up at him, your vision glossy, eyes teary and far away, and he threw his head back. You felt him, hot and dripping down the back of your throat as you tried to swallow around the thick of his cock.

He listened to you, whimpering around him, as he thrust into you languidly a few more times. Low growls of, “Fuck, take it, just like that,” erupted like thunder from the depths of his chest.

Eren pulled out and smoothed a palm over the side of your face. He pinched your cheeks together as you panted, coming down from one of the biggest rushes—and certainly the best orgasms—of your life. He kept his eyes on you as he smudged his thumb over your lips, spreading them with his thumb and pushing down on your bottom teeth. You had swallowed everything he had given you. Satisfied, he dropped your face.

You smeared the back of your wrist over your mouth, but it wasn’t enough. You used the neckline of your shirt to messily clean your mouth, hoping your friends would ignore the stain left behind.

Eren had already tugged on his jeans though his belt remained undone. He ran a hand through his hair, now freed from its bun, the ends of it dusting his shoulders. You weren’t sure when that happened, but it was most likely your doing.

You didn’t know how you should end this. There wasn’t an eloquent way to do so, was there? There wasn’t a manual or instruction book to follow when you paid for a tattoo with your body. Paid for it with your underwear, too, apparently. You stayed quiet as you watched Eren stuff your thong into his back pocket like it was his.

“Consider it a tip,” he winked. Fine. You didn’t want them back, anyway.

So after a business-like exchange of, ‘Are we good?’ and ‘Yep,’ all while Eren tidied his station as though nothing had ever happened, you left the shop still tasting him on your tongue—feeling him exactly where you had predicted his fingerprints would sear into your skin.

Your friends weren’t waiting for you in the lobby but huddled together on the curb out front. It was well past eleven o’clock now. The shop must have kicked them out before closing.

Bug-eyed and gawking at the mere sight of you, one of them commented, “I thought you texted me as a joke. I didn’t think you were actually serious.”

You had forgotten about your phone.

When you checked your messages—saw what 'you' had replied when she asked what the hold-up was—you wanted to die a little.

Fucking the tattoo artist.

Blunt and to the point and definitely something you didn’t want to share with them, even if they could have guessed it. You responded with an innocuous half-laugh.

“Hey, I thought we agreed on the right ankle,” she inquired. She looked to your left one to find it was just as bare. “Where’s your tattoo?”

“Oh, uh,” you stammered. “It’s, um, on my hip.”

You peeled back your shorts to show them, and thankfully, they didn’t mind.

The walk back to the sorority house was relatively quiet, and you blamed yourself for it. Only when your friend shook out her ankle and complained, “I can’t believe this little thing cost me a hundred dollars,” was the tension relieved. “Plus tip!”

“Right? And I can’t believe they expected us to have that in cash,” you remarked.

They stopped in their tracks—both of them—each shooting you a bewildered look.

“Cash?”

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren smut #slimeball alley on bastard blvd

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pettydollie · 5 months

Note

hii i could you write popular!bakugou x quiet!reader or bakugou x reader inspired by in between by gracie adams 🤍

ofc! xx 4 - popular bakugou x quiet reader (characters are aged up and in college btw) wc: 691

literally everyone is in love with bakugou or wants to be him its insane. like he has so many people asking about his quirk and trying to get to close to him, but he doesnt mind the attention. hes not cocky abt it, but he has a lot of pride. he's never alone, always walking the halls with people following him.

then theres you. a silent girl in most of his classes surprisingly. you mostly keep to yourself with 1-2 close friends. you were sat in front of him in all of his lectures with you and you had never bothered him. not once. ocasionally, he'd ask for a pencil or something and you'd give it to him. no biggie.

he honestly never really thought about you that much till a specific night. "you idiots." bakugou grumbled to himself as he got out of his friends car. he wasted a night of studying by partying with people he didnt even really like. except for his friend kiri, he was alright.

it was already 10:30. he wouldnt be able to stay awake, but he can't just go to sleep? nono, exams are very close, he needs to get as much information glued in his brain as possible. kiri had recommended having a study buddy. but who the hell would want to actually study with bakugou?? everyone would be distracted and frankly, he didnt have time for that.

and besides, he doesnt need anyone else. right? wrong.

because now as he walks up the stairs to the dormitories, he decides to find you. you were pretty normal for the most part, he thought. a bit of a nerd too, so he wasn't too worried about you having the wrong shit written down. he found your dorm and knocked softly, letting out a sigh.

meanwhile, you were munching on freshly made chocolate chip cookies while going over notes you had gotten from the lecture yesterday. you leaned back against your chair in a tiny tank top and shorts with your hair up in a claw clip. you had light music going on in the background, bopping your head slightly. though the bopping stopped as your head cocked to the side as soon as you heard the thuds of someone's steps coming towards your room.

you stood up when said person knocked on your door. maybe one of your friends came by, you thought. you grinned, excited you made so many cookies. you tip-toed to the door and swung it open.

with his hands dug into his pockets and a somewhat tired look on his face, the katsuki bakugou stood at your door in all his glory. "oh!" you squealed, your hand covering your mouth. "sorry, i-i just wasn't expecting you." you nervously spoke, feeling slightly embarassed.

"i need help. be my study buddy." bakugou spoke bluntly.

"huh? study buddy?" you muttered. bakugou stayed quiet and stepped into your room confidently, looking around. you stood to the side and shut the door behind you, following him inside where he walked over to your desk, looking at your neatly written notes. "yeah. you aint stupid or anythin' right?" he cocked a brow.

you shook your head softly. "no, i dont think so."

he nodded, eyes wandering down to what you were wearing. your eyes stared into his and realized what you had on. he bit the inside of his cheek. "what're you expectin' someone over?"

you shook your head, feeling awkward. "uh, no." you cleared your throat as bakugou sat in your chair, flipping through the pages you had spent such delicate time working on. "do you want a cookie?" you asked politely, pointing towards the plate on your desk, walking towards him. his head turned to where your finger was pointing.

he shrugged, taking one and biting into it. it was soft and chewy. and warm. his eyes brightened a little, just a little. "t's not bad. would be better with coffee." he stared at the bitten cookie in his hand, careful not to make a mess. you smiled at this. "coffee coming up!" you skipped to the kitchen.

that was the first time you had really spent time with him and you'd gotten to know him better than you thought you would have just by studying. needless to say, you enjoyed his company. you weren't around people too often, yet alone someone as popular and liked as bakugou.

as for him, he would never forget that day. it may sound stupid, but he thought you were something.. special. you didn't talk to him about his quirk, not once. you didn't ask if he had a girlfriend or if he was free next friday night. you were just you.

and you talked more than he anticipated also. guess you just had a lot kept inside till then. it seemed like that night, he had turned into the quiet one. and he didn't mind it at all. he grew closer with you and fell in love with you. yet, in class, you were still quiet. however, when it was just you two, you yapped for hours on end about anything.

he grinned at the thought.

I WANNA TURN THIS INTO A SERIES IM PROUD OF IT TBH.

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min1check · 4 months

Text

Leto! Joker x Side Chick! Reader part 2

1033 words dw im writing the smut part and again barely proofread so im sorry if u find mistakes

pt 1

description: you work at one of joker’s clubs and he begins to take interest in you… pt 2

I got my window fixed and a new bowl thankfully. If it was just me living there at the apartment I wouldn’t care about the bowl but I was preparing for my family to come and live with me.

But for some reason I began looking for Mr. J more and more. But he stopped coming to the club. I didn’t know why. Maybe he got tired of me?

Actually I’m stupid. That’s a good thing. He cheated on Harley…

…with me.

That goes against all and every girl code out there. What am I doing with my life? I need to focus on school and work.

The night I got home was when I started receiving gifts from him. Sometimes it was flowers, sometimes it was cash, sometimes it was even food. Every night I felt guilty.

One day, Joker finally showed up to the club, with Harley. The feeling I felt so strongly in my heart was guilt. (And jealousy but i’ll never admit that)

I placed down the drinks they usually ordered.

“Sorry hun! Puddin wants to try something different today.” Harley spoke to me.

I smiled back.

“What would Mr. and Mrs. J want today?” I smiled.

“Hmm… Doll what should I get today?” He turned to Harley.

I froze up at the nickname. I should’ve known that nickname wasn’t just for me. It was mad fucking embarrassing. It didn’t just feel embarrassing it made me feel disgusting and fucking nasty.

I could feel my face getting red from anger and embarrassment.

It looked like Mr. J could sense how I felt as he had the same grin on his face. It made me realize that being with him was dangerous for my mind and body. Yet there was something about him that was unexplainably alluring.

“Oooo~ I really liked the green thing we had last time!” Harley smiled ever so sweetly.

I went back to reality.

“We’ll have the absinthe.” The Joker looked at me up and down with a grin.

I’m a fool.

“Yes I’ll get that for you right away.” I smiled and walked off.

I’m so fucking stupid.

“Wow, that was fast, Miss Waiter!” Harley exclaimed.

“Thank you Mrs. J.” I tried my best to sound like I was laughing genuinely.

Joker just grinned at me like usual.

I couldn’t tell you about what I remembered about my shift except for that part. I got home quickly that night. On my table was a note with an address

written.

I quickly gathered all the random presents Joker left for me and put it in a box neatly.

It wasn’t right of me to let myself be a mistress. I needed to stop this. I couldn’t let myself catch even bigger feelings either. Why was I jealous of Harley even though he was already hers? It’s not right of me to think of such a thing. I’m not about to be a homewrecker.

But what if he reacted badly to me saying no? He’s literally batshit crazy. He wouldn't hesitate to blow my head off. I still have a lot of things to live for. Maybe I should just stay home.

But if he gave me this note tonight then he wants me to come tonight. Right?

So what if I had a slight smile currently? He’s hot and i like being wanted, that's all.

I googled how far the address was and it was actually pretty close. I quickly arrived at the address. I knocked on the door and was met with a shirtless Joker.

I touched my mouth to make sure I wasn’t drooling.

“Hi I’m sorry but I can’t accept this Mr. J.” I said quietly while trying to avoid looking at his man tities and his ripped ass chest.

There was no grin on his face but more like a scowl. It shook me to my very core. I was too used to his devilish grin. (It was kinda hot though…)

“Doll you’re breaking my heart! Those gifts were just for you!” His usual grin appeared on his face again. It

His use of the same pet name for Harley and me was repulsive. Yet it made my heart twist and turn.

“Give these gifts to your actual girlfriend Mr.

J. I don’t want to disturb your relationship and I need to focus on school and work.” I couldn’t bear to look at him so I focused my attention on the ground.

He put the box of gifts I held in my hands down on the floor.

“Aww~ Are you jealous Princess? Harley is my girlfriend, yes. But you’re the only one that’s in this smalllll tinyyyy heart.” He put my hand onto his chest.

Would he kill me if I squeezed it a bit?

“…” I didn’t want to retort back and get my head blown off. But this whole thing we had was morally wrong. And I knew if I fell in even more love with him I could never escape those feelings. I don’t want to die.

“Mr. J we can’t- I can’t do this. You already have a girlfriend and I need to focus on-“

I was cut off by him shushing me with his finger.

“You can’t but I definitely can. Who said anyone needed to know about us, Doll?” He held me in his arms.

“But Mr. J…” I was conflicted.

My life or him?

“C’mon Princess~ be with me. I’ll make sure you never worry again.” He said like he knew exactly what I was thinking.

He kissed me…

And I kissed back.

He’s probably done this to so many other girls but my body, heart, and mind couldn’t escape him.

Maybe a few more days wouldn’t hurt.

I spent the night with him. When I woke up he had already left. There was a note left next to me with his number on it.

I felt lonely.

My knees literally buckled with every step I took. It was really bad. I thought I was gonna fall multiple times. Thankfully I was able to get into my apartment and I slept for a little longer. Yet it felt cold without the warmth of Mr. J.

#joker x reader #jared leto joker x reader #jared leto joker #leto joker #leto joker x reader #the joker x reader

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yunarim · 10 months

Note

hellou I would like to ask (for reasons that the movie will be released soon~) for the dorm leaders reacting to their mc explaining to them with everything and power-point everything about barbie, they even watch her movies (they need to have barbie culture °^°)9 ), songs (mc starts to sing the songs of the Princess and the Pauper bc it's inevitable not to do it xd), toys, etc, and in the end mc gets sentimental because barbie was part of her childhood :') so that all Thank you very much <3 and have a good day *hug*

﹢ ﹒🩰 WRITTEN IN YOUR HEART and you're always free to believe ♡

♡ SYNOPSIS : reader introducing barbie culture to the dorm leaders !

♡ TAGS : implied female reader (but no pronouns used actually), fluff, implied reader has all the movies downloaded on the phone and got transmigrated with it, watch me being emo about barbie movies, games & songs because totally not me was obsessed with them in my childhood—

♡ NOTES : OMG ANON LET ME GIVE YOU A HUG TOO you're just in time bc i replayed barbie in the 12 dancing princesses literally a week ago sdhkjh THIS REQUEST IS SO SWEET i felt it with all my both mind and soul

— ❀ RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

How could you not realize it before!! When you asked Riddle if there is something you can help with since you’ve noticed he’s been quite preoccupied with too many things to handle, he said you may assist flamingo caretakers but there’s one rule that you absolutely mustn’t violate. According to rule 249, ‘Flamingo caretakers are to don pink attire’ which happens to be extremely… pinkish.

Riddle notices you following the rule by heart, but you seem to hum a song unknown to him. He asks why would even sing something like ‘We spin for you, Janessa, and chasse for you, Kathleen, we pirouette for Lacey, and we bow before the queens’ and among those lines… Riddle can understand the ‘bow before the queens’ line, but who are those people in the first place? You ask him if barbie culture even exists in their world and when you find out there’s none—

Riddle takes your introduction to barbie lessons just as diligently as professors' magic lessons. He wonders if you perform this excellently on tests as well since the way you turned all the information into neatly assigned diagrams and schemes is astonishing. You came up with the idea of homework because he’s familiar with such, so the task you assigned him to finish by the end of the week was to remember the Birthday Song you were singing in the garden.

He knows that all the barbie aesthetic is important to you by the way your eyes glow with joy whenever he brings you something barbie related. You got all Heartslabyul jamming to barbie songs, which is not against the rules. In fact, when Riddle spotted that even Trey started singing ‘If I want some eggs I ring the bell, and the maid comes running in’, he decided there is one more rule that needs to be added to the list, which is ‘One must sing ‘I am a girl like you’ when cooking’.

One day during an unbirthday party Riddle gifted you a handmade barbie doll according to your descriptions. He did make it himself but with a little touch of magic so it came out quite nice. He thought you would scream and maybe jump out of your seat but you just drew the doll right to your heart and teared up a little, causing Riddle to get confused for a moment. But once you explained that it’s very touching and means a lot to you, he smiled reassuringly. You’re an honorable ambassador of barbie culture in Heartslabyul now.

— ❀ LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

Even if Leona doesn’t say it, he’s grown quite fond of you enough to shamelessly tell you that you need to do the thing that always puts him to sleep, which is singing a lullaby. Usually you would just hum something incoherently and watch Leona snore on your lap but this time you decided to fall into the embrace of your childhood and sing ‘No one to say when to eat or read or leave or stay, that would be the day’. Leona opened one eye and asked if you were actually trying to put him into sleep or emphasize on his upbringing for some reason.

Next day you tell him if he falls asleep while you two watch ‘Barbie as The Princess and the Pauper’, you will never ever sing him to sleep again. He just yawns you away but agrees anyway since it’s the first time he sees you so agitated. Somehow ends up providing you with plot analysis as the movie goes on. This is the moment you know you got him.

Leona thinks he doesn’t care about your childish movies and things and then spends twenty minutes explaining to Ruggie why ‘Barbie in the Nutcracker’ is obviously superior. Leona: started as a joke and ended up genuinely investing into barbie culture. Ruggie: started as a way to fool around and ended up kinning Erika (Leona tells him to come back down to earth since Ruggie’s no queen like Erika was).

One day gifted you Princess Anneliese doll with ‘You’re just like me’ line — whatever he meant by that — and your reaction turned out to be so amusing so he started casually gifting you other barbie dolls just to (enjoy your beautiful smile but he won’t tell you this) entertain himself. Now whoever visits Ramshackle often asks how did you get an enormously large collection of pretty dolls but your dorm remains so ruin-like. Needless to say that you would be considered rich in your world for having such a huge collection in your property.

Now asks you to watch barbie movies together instead of singing him to sleep but ends up never falling asleep before he watches till the end. You throw quick glances to check if he’s asleep and he pretends he is, though his tail can not lie, revealing his honest reaction to plot twists. Cheka visited once, and now thanks to you everyone in Afterglow Savannah is cultured.

— ❀ AZUL ASHENGROTTO

All popular cafes in the city were holding some events with advertising new products as a main purpose. Azul couldn’t afford falling behind so he needed to come up with original and creative ideas as soon as possible. Since you were working part-time at Mostro Lounge, you suggested holding barbie inspired events. When you found out no one in Twisted Wonderland knew barbie, you were so shocked that you asked (or rather demanded) Azul to entrust all the preparations to you.

At first no one really understood what’s the point of decorating Mostro Lounge with pink glittering and shining stuff but when you suddenly came up on the stage and started singing simple yet touching songs, everyone started getting the main idea. But the pièce de résistance became none other than Bibble plushies. You sewed the very first version, and Azul grew to love the new Mostro Lounge’s mascot so much he now has an enormously huge Bibble plush toy in his dorm room. You always say it needs to be resewed but he already got a soft spot for it.

Azul is absolutely in love with all the outfits you come up with for the performances, but most importantly he can’t throw out of his mind the songs you performed. Ended up recreating instrumental music from Mermaidia just according to your vague descriptions of how it should sound, and it turned out perfect. You once accustomed his outfit to resemble Nori’s one and well— It’s totally not you who wants to see his merform with Nori’s accessories and makeup, surely not, nuh-uh.

Gifts you barbie mermaid doll, its outfit pieces made from pearls from Coral Sea. You don’t even know if you can accept such a precious gift, considering you didn’t expect Azul to think about how important it was for you. So you came up with the idea that he also should perform with you on stage, accompanying you by playing piano.

Singing songs from ‘Barbie as The Princess and the Pauper’ became Octavinelle tradition thanks to you. But also please don’t sabotage Azul with a recording of him crying his eyes out while listening to you singing ‘Written in your heart’ alright? Also would do anything to see you dressed up as Elina but you most certainly didn’t hear Floyd and Jade telling you this info. You most certainly didn’t see the Mermaidia art piece appearing in the Atlantica Memorial Museum either.

— ❀ KALIM AL-ASIM

The first ever time you’re taking a magic carpet ride with Kalim, you realize that maybe this is how Barbie felt riding a pegasus. When Kalim asks who is Barbie and what pegasus even is, you explain in vivid detail the whole plot of ‘Barbie and the Magic of Pegasus’ and start singing ‘Cause hope has wings to carry you’. Kalim doesn’t even know the song but somehow ends up guessing the lyrics and the vibe so you two are taking crazy carpet flips and giving Jamil a hard time watching you from the ground. (Spoiler: the next day Jamil is having a hard time listening to Kalim saying they should get a pegasus somewhere.)

Okay apparently you got Kalim planning to recreate the whole ‘Barbie in the 12 Dancing Princesses’ with his siblings because he’s totally invested. HELP he’s so down that he’s been asking you details about barbie outfits for a week, so now it looks like he’s more fan than you are.

Every time you visit Scarabia, Kalim greets you with performances you’ve never thought can be recreated in real life. One day he decorated his magic carpet with light purple jewelry encrusted in the fabrics, the next day he was dressed up as Derek from ‘Barbie in the 12 Dancing Princesses’ and asked you for a dance. It was extremely silly because you suddenly remembered the PC game you played and how ridiculous princesses movements were but you got so immersed into dance you decided to let your inner child arise.

Kalim gifts you 12 dancing princesses dolls collection made by him and his siblings and you straight up start crying out of joy and how thoughtful it is for you, which gets Kalim just as emotional as you, so now Jamil has to take care of two crying silly idiots. Kalim is the one who helps you advertise barbie throughout Twisted Wonderland, because everyone needs to grow fond of it. He also suggests you ask the headmaster if you could assign pink and lilac as Ramshackle dorm's official color scheme so everyone would know you’re a barbie ambassador here in Twisted Wonderland. Also thought it would be a good idea to make hymns for every dorm based on barbie songs but couldn’t decide which one would fit Scarabia, so he just ended up randomly starting singing whatever pops up in his mind.

— ❀ VIL SCHOENHEIT

Usually you just enjoy going shopping with Vil and you’re usually calm and collected, but when you suddenly screamed Vil thought something happened. You almost started crying out of nowhere and when Vil came closer to you and took a look at the glass case he saw a butterfly-shaped necklace. When you started spinning around and bursting in soft giggles, Vil could have sworn he saw pinkish sparkles blossoming around you. Turned out the necklace reminded you of the similar one that appeared in Barbie Fairytopia of which Vil had no idea.

Next day you presented an insanely well-made research on all barbie outfits from every movie, video game and doll. Rook tagged along for beauty and aesthetic appreciation and Epel just heard you mentioning having barbie jeep cruiser convertible car playset so now you’ve got Pomefiore in full force listening to you explaining what barbie culture means in your world and somehow they ended up investing into it quite unironically.

When Epel shows you a magazine issue the next month, you have your jaw somewhere on the floor because the Vil Schoenheit just released a photoshoot inspired by ‘Barbie: A Fashion Fairytale’ you once showed to him. He understands the impact of barbie culture on your generation and realizes how trendy it can get in Twisted Wonderland.

Not Vil passing the casting for a film adaptation of ‘Barbie and The Diamond Castle’ based on the movie you have saved on your phone— And not the Neige LeBlanch playing Alexa… In any case you can’t imagine what started as you getting excited over a necklace similar to Barbie’s one, ended up Vil and Neige starring in one of your favorite movies but here in Twisted Wonderland.

He gives you the necklace, but not that similar one you saw in a shop. He proudly gifts you the necklace just like in the movie you watched with him after introducing barbie culture, and you tear up, saying you won’t ever take it off and it’ll be on your neck forever. Now you’ve got Vil (and actually a whole Pomefiore considering they should make adjustments in their dorm’s aesthetic choices) genuinely liking barbie culture thanks to you.

— ❀ IDIA SHROUD

You were playing video games with Idia when something suddenly slapped you — the game resembles ‘Barbie Diaries’ so much!! When Idia asks you what the hell is barbie, you jump from the chair and drop your px5 controller. No way… there is no way Idia doesn’t know this masterpiece, you thought he got influenced by barbie culture while growing up.

You can’t say no to this challenge, so the next day the powerpoint party you decided to hold got extremely serious and unironically informative. You’ve got everything prepared: how barbie was created, when the movies were released, which dolls were to die for, and of course… games!!

Let’s be real, it’s Idia who’s investing, and he’s investing hard. He got all the songs from ‘Barbie as The Princess and the Pauper’ memorized in an hour after listening to your presentation. He doesn’t care if people think it’s a childish thing, NO WAY it’s childish when the ‘When you live your dream, you’ll find destiny is written in your heart’ line LITERALLY EXISTS.

He makes barbie PC games based on your descriptions in a span of one day because he’s already a true barbie stan and he doesn’t care if he’s sleep deprived. He’s got all the barbie movies you sent him to watch. Idia also is being sad because how the hell Twisted Wonderland couldn’t came up with something so genuinely genius. He also sighs and complains to you that he kinda fell behind and would be late for the trend if he was in your world because he started stanning barbie after it became mainstream, but you reassure him that it’s alright and he can be barbie ambassador in Twisted Wonderland with you.

When you help him arrange a barbie doll collection no one knows how Idia even recreated, he also gives to you a huge dollhouse with barbie playsets you’ve mentioned briefly. Right when you’re about to tear up, he gets panicked but also installs on your laptop all the PC barbie games he managed to create based on your words. Please don’t abandon him and play all the barbie games he created with him in his room. It's obviously better to (share the memories but he’s too shy to say it out loud okay—) play them on his computer anyway.

You can wake him up at 3 in the morning and randomly say ‘Can’t go back, so we gotta go on, we’ll stick together, staying strong’ and he’ll perfectly accompany you with his eyes closed, humming ‘There’s a diamond castle in my mind and someday soon’ because he memorized all the songs. Ortho mentions how Idia starts singing barbie songs here and there in the dorm. Idia also wants to provide you with cosplay materials, so if you don’t mind…

— ❀ MALLEUS DRACONIA

Once Malleus mentions he’s a fae during late night strolls around Ramshackle, you suddenly start singing softly ‘Fairytopia’s where I wanna be, Dandelion and Bibble next to me’ and Malleus gets so confused. Who… are Dandelion and Bibble? Also Fairytopia? Is it what your homeland calls? Are there faes in your world too? Tell him everything!

You show movies you downloaded on your phone (even if you never thought the very first thing you would show on your phone would be barbie movies, moreover it’s Malleus who’s bad with technologies) and he immediately starts asking you questions like ‘Why would Laverna want to destroy the rainbow and plunge Fairytopia into bitter winter?’, ‘Are there different types of fairies or only the ones that have wings behind their backs?”, and many other things.

He also wants to know if you’re not opposed to the idea of dancing with him like 12 dancing princesses did. You also sing to him when you feel like it, and once he heard of ‘Barbie as The Princess and the Pauper’ he felt as if he was enchanted. Turns ‘Free’ into opera performance with Lilia filming him for something he referred to as ‘family archives’, Silver being happy Malleus-sama is happy, and Sebek tearing up because his master is absolutely majestic, brilliant, wonderful, outstanding and—

He doesn’t really understand the concept of collecting dolls but sees Lilia’s room getting filled with them (Diasomnia vice dorm leader doesn’t really know he ordered them from Idia but that’s another story—) and smiles. Malleus also rehearses the songs with Silver in the meadow so he could impress you later.

You feel like crying when it's a warm sunset dissolving in pink and peach colors and Malleus sings ‘In my heart I’d be glad if you loved me for me’. It’s touching and reminds you of your home so much you can’t resist and tear up, Malleus gently stroking your head. Once you calm down, he grins and says there’s something he wants to present to you. He doesn’t know how to make or at least where to buy barbie dolls, people are also terrified of him so there’s no way he could play a role in a movie like Vil Schoenheit, but he’s a fae. He doesn't have fragile pinkish wings, but he’s a powerful magician who wants to thank you for introducing such an adorable culture to him.

So he magically creates a beautiful bright rainbow just for you, giving you an enchanted butterfly-shaped necklace, resembling one that Elina had in ‘Barbie Fairytopia’, so if you’ll have a hard time, just touch the necklace, and the small version of a magic rainbow will appear. ‘Hope will blossom by believing the heart that lies within’.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #riddle x reader #leona x reader #azul x reader #kalim x reader #vil x reader #idia x reader #malleus x reader #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #kalim al asim #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #malleus draconia

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tokosparrow · 4 months

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Could you do max Fischer headcannons of him and a gn reader in a relationship (hope this makes sense first time requesting :3)

a/n: OMGOMGOMG first time actually getting a max fischer request and i’m pretty excited (i’ve never seen any other content with him so i’m happy :3) plus sorry if it may seem hes a bit ooc, i kinda don’t know how to properly characterize him just yet >.<

> you two possibly met at one of the many clubs that max either is the head or founder of, which was pretty surprising to you but yet very impressing.

> and you maybe got his attention by sharing the same couple interests that he happens to be really interested, so your friendship with him kinda just happened.

> soon max seems to find himself more interested in you and your hobbies than he would his other friends at rushmore.

> then soon….BAM

> max realizes he has a big rising crush on you, he’s a little worried at first but he soon gotten over it when he’s also realizes he enjoys just being around you and talking to you as much as he can.

> like he was with miss cross in the movie, he’s very VERY much smitten with you.

> the moment you mutter something you enjoy deeply, he’s immediately on his way to imply it to the school in some way, shape or form.

“i actually really enjoy art museums :)”

“……”

“i’ll be right back, give me a moment please”

> soon he has all art classes go on weekly mandatory trips to art museums to study in after many convincing arguments how it’ll help students learn better.

> and when max actually comes around to actually confessing, he writes you a letter, giving it to you in a neatly put together envelope with little drawings and hearts that he drew (how sweet of him <333)

> let’s just hope you could understand the french writing he sparkled in the confession here and there, he just wants to be as romantic as he can <333

> now let’s get to the ACTUAL relationship headcannons LOL

> like i said before, max is VERY much smitten with you, like either getting you a small bouquet of your favorite flowers or leaving sweet hand written notes in your locker expressing how much he loved you.

> one time he even went up to your window while it was raining because supposedly he was caught in the rain while getting home and he was close to your house already (he just missed you, that’s all <3)

> he soon stayed at your house for the rest of the night since it was getting late and you didn’t him going home in the heavy rain.

> max seems like someone to really enjoy PDA so expect some hand holding and some kisses on your hand as he walks you home or just out in public <333

> he’s just such a showoff so he always brings up something good about you at any second of the day.

“did you know my partner is an amazing writer <3?”

“yes max, you’ve said this many times…”

“well you’re in to learn many more things about them from ME >:)”

> max even has a couple printed out pictures of you that he likes to keep around his room and even a picture of the both of you in his pocket that he carries everywhere since he says it gives him a bit of luck (he got a D on a test once when carrying the picture and swore it gave him luck)

> he even shared his first kiss with you, it was a bit unexpected for him since it felt like a normal day with you to him until you randomly kissed him.

“oh wow….i didn’t expect that all…wanna do it again :>?”

“you’re so silly <333”

> since then, he always finds an excuse to kiss you, he loves you a bunch <333

#toko writes #max fischer #max fischer x reader #rushmore #x reader #please don’t bully me for this </333

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tcfactory · 4 months

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So, I have a really silly Mobei-jun transmigrator idea.

OG Mobei gets into writing after his Qinghua dies and Bingge starts doing the endless harem collecting because he wants to get away from what is kinda turning into his personal hell and he doesn't even have a trusty retainer he can bully to let off some steam.

He doesn't plan on getting any of it published because he starts out really clumsy with his words at first and even he knows it. But after getting all his venting out in his early works he really just nails the kind of stories with AU fix-it vibes (even if he always very carefully writes different settings than their own world. Can't have Bingge think he is criticizing what the Junshang has done to the world) that a lot of people in PIDW crave as a form of escapism, actually. And it's a little bit fun to sneak around and get the publishing contract and the illustrations and everything done behind Bingge's back.

The harem is hooked. There are passionate fanclubs for his characters that change the friendships and alliances between the consorts. There are ship wars that escalate to actual murder attempts. Mobei-jun watches with growing dread as the women ignore Luo Binghe in favor of trying to find out who the mysterious author writing the books is. Nobody suspects him because in person he still doesn't talk, like, at all.

Except finally Bingge has enough and uses a relic to track down the mysterious author and ends up killing Mobei, because centuries of loyal service or not, he has stirred up the harem so bad that Bingge refuses to tolerate the distraction anymore. Mobei dies thinking that if it was to end like this anyway he really should have just written that wish-fulfillment fix-it story he always wanted.

So the former Mobei-jun transmigrates into Mo Yunbao, soon to be An Ding's head disciple, a little before Binghe comes to the sect. He doesn't have a digital System (at least at the start), he has an analogue interface: the System directly communicates with these strangely folded paper 'birds'.

It takes Mobei some time to realize that other people can technically see the papers the System sends, but only if he deliberately brings attention to them, they can't read any of the writing and then they forget about them right away. He eats a lot of paper trying to hide them before he realizes that he doesn't have to bother.

Since his complaint was essentially that "nobody was actually happy in PIDW, not even the protagonist" his task is simple: create the maximum number of happy endings without completely sidestepping the main storyline re: Binghe, abyss, the usual System restrictions. How hard could it be, right? He thinks he has a fair idea about all of these people, Luo Binghe just could not shut up about all his horrible childhood when he had a captive audience and Mobei has always been very good at listening.

Except Shang Qinghua is acting strange. Mobei dismisses it as maybe the peak lord being different with his disciples than he is with his king, even if there are other things that are not quite aligning as they should. He already knows how he's going to fix that storyline, he needs to focus on figuring out all the other things, so he just ignores Shang Qinghua.

Yeah, that goes exactly as well as you'd think. Imagine Airplane bro for a moment: he's trying to send his weird little (he's cute, like a feral kitten is cute) gremlin of a head disciple to harass Shen Qingqiu into turning in the bi-monthly financial report early so he can sneak out and report to his king, when the distracted A-Bao reminds him not to forget his fur coat this time. It's the middle of the summer! Even more shockingly a very neatly folded paper plane flies in out of nowhere and hits head disciple Mo on the head with a thwack before it falls on the peak lord's desk.

Qinghua surprises both of them by picking the paper plane up before the other can even reach for it. It's a warning for OOC violation, but no point deduction because there are only transmigrators in the room.

So both Mobei and Airplane tell their stories, they bond over their love of writing and how fucked it would be if everything someone wrote became someone else's reality (Mobei hopes that hasn't happened to any of his stories. He wrote some really dark stuff at the start of his writing career that he would never wish even on his worst enemy), somewhere along the way they bully the System into upgrading Mobei's interface to the digital one and they become allies in fixing the world one doomed relationship at a time.

It's not long into their cooperation when Mobei realizes that he really likes this version of Shang Qinghua, actually, but it would be really inappropriate for a head disciple to hook up with his shizun, so he settles for setting the other Mobei-jun up with Airplane. Airplane is a good, responsible creator deity, he deserves a happy end.

Besides, Mobei has a good life here, as a human. He has friends he can (affectionately) bully, he doesn't have to fear certain death (for a while at least), he teams up with Liu Mingyan and together they convince Shen Qingqiu to preside over a cross-peak literature and creative writing club that's an absolute blast and Liu Qingge is trying to poach him for Bai Zhan because the body of Mo Yunbao is really suited for physical cultivation. He would go too if it wasn't so much more convenient to stay on An Ding for the sake of their schemes, but maybe he can let the War God steal him away for some night-hunting dates every now and then.

They don't know yet what to do with Luo Binghe when he inevitably shows up at the sect, but he has some faith that between Airplane and him they can figure out something good.

#svsss #mobei-jun #shang qinghua #tc writes #I might eventually write this or might not #if anyone wants to take a crack at this idea: please be my guest #or if you want to steal any part of it #like the analogue interface for the System #I'm a little proud of that one

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teenagemutantninjatrauma · 1 month

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Actually y'know, while I'm at this - didn't wanna make that anon's innocent ask all about this, but please ninja turtle fandom, do NOT take the 2003 tmnt Fandom.com wiki as gospel. Most of the information there is questionable at best and I am still not over hummerhouse, who's written like hundreds of tcest fics, being a moderator there. I suspect with how long they in particular have been around that there's just, a whole older generation where tcest was a lot more tolerated and seen as normal, and, you know, personally I'd like to find out about cool extra stuff about a show I like from people who don't ship siblings together. So, question the sources, check things for yourself.

Here's where else you can go look for stuff! (gonna write out the links in case Tumblr fucks up so you can just copy paste them for yourselves <3)

🐢 Peter Laird's blog! (https://peterlairdstmntblog.blogspot.com) Plus, specifically all the blog posts about 03! (https://peterlairdstmntblog.blogspot.com/search/label/TMNT%204Kids%20TV%20show)

🐢 The Technodrome Forums (http://forums.thetechnodrome.com) - an internet forum for discussion about all the iterations, but also stuff like roleplaying :D It might seem old-fashioned but at least you get to ask around for anything you might need.

🐢 @tmntkiseki here on tumblr! Collecting a metric fuckton of character sheets, vehicle sheets, concept art, gadget art, and background art. Bonus - everything very neatly organized in their pinned post!

🐢 Similarly we also have @tmntbackgrounds (I think that's just 03?), and @tmnt-background-screenshots (more than just 03, more than just backgrounds)!

Anyways this got a bit long and I realized that the older iterations' fandoms don't have many reliable sources of info (although I am forever frickin grateful for the character sheet and background blogs at least) so anybody is free to reblog this with resources or leave them on this post in comments or reblog this onto their own info-collecting blogs. Just uh, y'know, remember to cite your sources and don't be a stickler about randomass character information. As far as I can tell the newer iterations - '12 and Rise and MM - don't have this big of a problem with a lack of sources, but I'm not that active in those sides of the fandom, so feel free to add on with other iterations as well if you want to!

immediate edit: a strategy wiki page for the 03 game! (https://strategywiki.org/wiki/Teenage_Mutant_Ninja_Turtles_(2003))

another edit: you can also, of course, find the whole 03 series on youtube!

yet another edit: thank you Human for a Kiddle link (https://kids.kiddle.co/Teenage_Mutant_Ninja_Turtles_(2003_TV_series)) about the 03 show, the descriptions are p brief but the website does get into all the other iterations as well so it's great for comparison!

#anti tcest #cw tcest #anti fandom wiki #i am just so genuinely mad #there is just NOTHING dude #tmnt resources post #chatter #I'm gonna try not to lose this #block hammerhouse while you're at it lol <3

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anonbinaryweirdo · 10 months

Text

Thinking about Kaeya taking care of you without a moment of hesitation once he finds out about you being sick

Regardless of your personality or how you normally act, he’ll instantly notice some sort of shift in your mood or in the way you act compared to normal, despite how big or practically unnoticeable it be (he has a very keen eye uwu)

If you don’t live with him, he comes to check up on you, be it because he hasn’t seen you in a while all day or because his gut told him to, he’s coming to check up on you

Once you open the door (after some time) and he sees the state you’re in, he’ll feel guilty

Or if you don’t open the door, he’ll help himself, and find you wherever you are in your humble abode

And feel guilty. er. guiltier. ???

He’s a little upset he didn’t realize you were sick sooner, but he masks it with his usual Kaeya self. He’ll be quick to bring you an extra blanket or pillow before retreating to get you some soup or medicine to calm down the tummy aches or head pains

He doesn’t want you to be sick alone, he knows that it only makes being sick worse. He wouldn’t want his snowflake to have to befall the same fate he once did many times before :(

If you’re one of those people who feels the constant need to get up, he’s there to gently usher you back to your resting position, making sure to tuck you in nice and neatly

He doesn’t scold you,,, but he doesn’t not scold you,,, he’s worried, okay?

“Now, now, snowflake. If you keep moving like that, you’re never going to get better. Here, just lay back down. Let me take care of you, okay? Just stay put.”

A little stern on that “stay put” ksjsldkldflk

He’s just worried okay :((

Almost like a nagging mother

He’s gonna nurse you back to full health in no time! He’d make a really pretty nurse, and he always somehow persuades you to take even the ickiest of medicines,,, maybe it’s his voice.

“Come on sweetheart, I know it tastes bad, but just trust me, okay? Now say ‘aaaahhh…’ There you go.”

He’ll act all reluctant if you ask to be held or cuddled,,, but he will literally gladly indulge

Bastard.

You just need to promise to take care of him once he’s sick, okay? :D

“There, there, love… I’ll take good care of you for as long as you need me to. You just have to promise to take care of me if you get me sick, alright? My services aren’t free, you know… Kidding, kidding.”

Cries when you actually take care of him

Written with beloved Mimi in mind I procrastinated a bit I apologize if it turned out stinky

@mikacynth

#oliver finallt writing on their blog holy shit #MIKAAAAAAAAAAAA #THIS WILL BE WAITING FOR YOU WHEN YOU WAKE UO #🖋 oli writes stuff #kaeya x reader #kaeya alberich x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader

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fandomxpreferences · 1 year

Text

Drink Up Chapter One

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x female!reader

TW: mentions of drinking

Summary: You're a new bartender at the Hard Deck and you're more than willing to fill a certain blonde pilot in on the newest drink on the menu.

Word Count:1k

A/N: part two maybe?? This has been rotting my brain for three weeks and I finally got it written

It's Saturday night at the hard deck and you're slammed. You've only been in North Island for a month and it's your second week as a bartender here. You roll your eyes as you hear someone clear their throat loudly to get your attention and take your time finishing up the drink order you're working on before turning around to see who's so impatient.

Your eyebrow quirks as you come face to face with a blonde man leaning over the bar with a commercial-worthy smile. Your eyes rake over him slowly and he smirks as you blatantly check him out.

You'd be lying if you said the man isn't hot enough to lick chocolate sauce off of. You can tell through his service khakis that he's very fit but your admiration quickly turns to annoyance when he speaks.

"Like what you see darlin'?" He swirls a toothpick in his mouth and you notice a slight twang in his voice. You scoff and cross your arms with a bored expression. "Hardly. What can I get you?"

You watch his eyes twinkle at your attitude and your irritation only grows. You've already met plenty like him in your time here. The type to take your disinterest as a challenge and get a semi at the idea of a woman with a backbone. Usually, the women here are all over the sailors, so it's a game to them when they have to actually earn your attention.

He ignores your question and leans in further. "What's your name? Haven't seen you around here before." He seems genuinely intrigued and your eyes narrow. You could easily tell him your name, it's not like it's a secret. But you'd rather have a little fun.

You lean against the bar only keeping a few inches between the two of you and smile seductively. Your eyes shoot to his lapel and you notice the wings pinned neatly to the fabric. His eyes widen ever so slightly and he glances down at your lips. You have him just where you want him. "Doesn't matter. You won't be using it, flyboy."

You retreat just as quickly as you had advanced and you watch the realization that you played him set in on his face. Jake always wants what he can't have and right now, you're looking like forbidden fruit wrapped in a pretty little bow.

"That was mean." He teases and you smirk. "Who said I was nice? Are you ordering or not? I'm busy." You say while gesturing to the chaos around you. He shakes his head slightly and stands up straight. "Three beers. Please and thank you."

You turn around without a word and grab the drinks, quickly popping the tops off. When you spin back around you see him frowning at the drink menu and set the beers down to get his attention. His eyes shoot up to you and he points at the laminated piece of paper.

"What the hell is a hurricane shot?" He asks and you look at him amused. "Why don't you order it and find out?" You snark and he swears you might be his future wife.

"Whatever you say, Red." You frown at the name and he nods toward your shirt. It's a crimson red cutoff tank top and you resist the urge to smirk.

"Coming right up, Ken Doll." You feel butterflies in your stomach as excitement courses through you. He has no idea what he just signed up for and you're thrilled you get to be the one to fill him in.

You pour him a shot of tequila and fill a glass with water before climbing up to sit on the counter in front of him. He's standing between your legs and he looks at you with a shit-eating grin.

A few of the other bar patrons have witnessed the new menu item over the past two weeks and gather around to watch. The small crowd grabs the attention of his friends and they look over confused.

You've already met the tall man, Rooster you think, and explained the drink to him. He turns to the rest of the pilots and almost squeals with glee. "You're gonna want to see this." He exclaims and leads them all over to where you're at.

You hand the pilot his shot and hold onto the cup of water. "Drink up G.I Joe." You smile and he winks at you before throwing the clear liquid back. What comes next takes him by surprise. As soon as he sets the shot glass down, you throw the water in his face and smack him across the cheek.

His head jerks to the side at the force and he blinks a few times trying to process what the hell just happened. He slowly turns back to look at you and the look in your eyes almost makes him order another one despite the burning sensation slowly spreading across his face.

The bar erupts in cheers and Rooster looks like he might pass out from laughing so hard. Neither of you says anything as you stare each other down and Jake feels electricity shoot through him. You have a mischievous glint in your eyes and your pupils are dilated looking at the man in front of you.

You never break eye contact, even after the rest of the bar goes back to what they were doing before. Your eyebrow shoots up in a challenging manner and Jake feels his mouth go dry.

"You good tinker bell?" You ask and he snaps out of his trance. "It's Hangman." He corrects you while plastering that annoyingly perfect grin back on his face.

You pretend to be deep in thought for a second before tsking. "Nah. Don't like it." Jake stares at you for a second and shakes his head while leaning in slightly.

"I think I love you." He blubbers and you throw your head back with a laugh before leaning down and grazing your lips against his ear. You hear his breath hitch and his body stiffens. You smile to yourself, proud of the reaction you've elicited. "That's what they all say, flyboy."

Before he can react, you're back on the other side of the bar taking orders and ignoring him. He grabs his beers and heads back to the group with a shell-shocked expression.

You're going to haunt his dreams until he can find out more about you. He sits down and ignores the taunts of his peers. He's going to find out everything he can from Penny as soon as she gets back.

Taglist:

@drakelover78

@manyfandomsfanvergent

@ssprayberrythings

@disturbedbeautywrites

@desert-fern

@one-sweet-gubler

Click here to be added!

#Jake seresin #Jake seresin imagine #jake seresin top gun #Jake seresin x reader #hangman imagine #hangman top gun #hangman x reader #hangman #top gun #top gun imagine

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yggdraseed · 6 months

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Women in Jujutsu Kaisen

Let’s get this out of the way first: if you’re reading this because you enjoy reading posts by people who hate Jujutsu Kaisen, you’re going to be disappointed. I actually like Jujutsu Kaisen a lot, I have a lot of positive things to say about it, and I’m going to be explaining my reasoning here. You should probably move on if you want trash talk. But if you have a negative view point that you’re nevertheless willing to reevaluate or recontextualize by looking at things from a new perspective, please read on.

A lot has been said about how women are written in Jujutsu Kaisen. A lot of good, and a lot of bad. I think a lot of the bad comes from how Jujutsu Kaisen was praised so early on for how it’s women were written, only for people to either not see it or have their expectations not be met due to events in Shibuya and the Culling Games. However, while I try to respect diversity of opinion, I feel like a lot of people aren’t really grasping why the way GeGe Akutami writes women was lauded. I think a people have lots of different ideas of what makes for a well-written female character, and don’t find what they’re looking for in Jujutsu Kaisen, thus they get angry and they post online about how GeGe Akutamisogyny isn’t going to beat “the allegations.”

I’ve never liked the justifications put forth for that argument. There’s a lot of subtext to how the female cast of Jujutsu Kaisen are written that can’t fit neatly into the simple world of page and panel counts or win-loss ratios. And, fortunately, there are tools for feminist literary analysis that I am going to employ in what will hopefully be a short trilogy of posts, starting here.

When I see people criticizing how women are written in Jujutsu Kaisen, I usually only see them using one point of interest: the outcome of a fight. If a female character doesn’t win a fight, then some people in the audience take that to mean that GeGe Akutami hates that character, hates women, and doesn’t want them to succeed — or some variation of that, perhaps less extreme.

This is a product of Jujutsu Kaisen being a Shonen, and thus being on the radar of Shonen fans who — let’s be honest — are not known widely for consuming anime or manga outside of the Shonen demographic. Shonen is heavily focused on conflict and competition as storytelling, it’s why the term “battle shonen” is used so prevalently. And Jujutsu Kaisen doesn’t try to deny its own Shonen heritage: it uses fights for storytelling all the time, sometimes even more than other Shonen seem to do.

I think this might also be a cultural thing. Anime and manga are written very differently from Western movies or comic books, with very different cultural background and different artistic sensibilities. However, that’s a topic that I’ll unpack another time, maybe not even in Part 2 or 3 of this post.

Point is, we need to step back and get some perspective. People who use the losses or deaths among the female cast as evidence that GeGe hates women, or sees women as inferior, or has some sort of passive, culturally-inherited sexism in their worldview are suffering from tunnel vision. You need to look at the story as a whole sometimes, not just the one subject in question.

Go back to the Goodwill Event, and the fight between Nobara and Momo. Their whole conversation is a huge part of why Jujutsu Kaisen was praised early on for how Akutami writes women, and I think the subtext of it really went over some people’s heads. It did mine, the first time around: to me, it just felt like a competent, if tired “girl power” moment for Nobara. But as I invested more time and thought into reading the series, and as I learned more since first viewing that scene, I started to realize what I wasn’t seeing in that scene.

Momo shares something in common with all of the Kyoto Students, Todo and Miwa being the exception. In addition to seemingly coming from a more-or-less established sorcerer pedigree, Momo shares the general pessimism that hangs over the Kyoto Students like a dark cloud. There’s this very morosely Japanese sense of “woe is me, but there’s nothing to be done” about Momo, Mai, Noritoshi, and Mechamaru, in one sense or another. These four are people who will complain about a problem, then just sit while it washes over them and batters them like a wave. They just accept the unfair hand they’re dealt in life, and while they don’t like it, they treat it as something no one can overcome. Furthermore, on some level, I think these four don’t necessarily want to overcome the misfortunes and injustices they face.

See, Momo pours her heart out at length about how hard it is being a woman and being a sorcerer. And the way she talks about it is a very different critique of society than you’d see in a lot of Shonen. She talks about how women are expected to be perfect: beautiful, graceful, exquisite, the model of femininity, while also keeping up with the macho “might makes right” sensibilities that dominate sorcery. In her words, “men have to be strong, women have to be perfect.”

This isn’t something that’s just being plucked out of thin air, this is a criticism of the girlboss culture that arose through the 2000s and 2010s up to now. Women are expected to battle sexism alone, in their own lives, by being exceptional: rather than reforming cultural structures that put women at a disadvantage to men, girlboss culture says women just need to always wear perfect makeup, always be fashionable, always work 2.5 times harder than men, and find time to raise children and have a side-hustle at the same time. Instead of fixing the problem, it’s telling women, “Just work harder. Just be better.” As if women haven’t been having to work harder for nothing in return for the past 50 years, holding down jobs that they have to go above and beyond to prove themselves in as compared to male coworkers for whom the job might as well be a guarantee by comparison, having a ceiling put on their promotion while men who didn’t put in as much work get to move up the company ladder, and frequently having to juggle having a child and taking care of housework in addition to the expectations of jobs that often don’t afford maternity leave. And then, on top of all of that, the expectation is then foisted on to have the time and energy to perfectly craft your hair, makeup, and outfit for the day, and if you miss a single step of the whole stupid dance, you’re seen as an underachiever. That’s girlboss culture, and that’s what Momo is indirectly criticizing when she laments the contradictory and unfair expectations women in the sorcery world have to uphold. They need to fight just as hard as the men, while wearing skirts and not getting a single scar on that pretty face.

(Just as an aside, I love the way this conversation comes about. Momo and Mai are pretty close to each other, to the point that it sometimes feels like nobody else in the Kyoto school likes or respects Mai like Momo does. And Momo targets Nobara with this whole speech because of the friction between Mai and Nobara, and because she wants to stand up for Mai. I like that element of both solidarity and conflict between women, about being a woman, and I’ve always gotten sapphic vibes from Momo and Mai, so I’m glad that she’s the one giving this whole speech and why she’s doing it. But I digress.)

And the thing is, she’s not wrong. Neither Nobara nor the story as an overall entity refutes anything she says. However, Nobara points out something else about Momo that she shares in common with the other Kyoto Students who were raised to be sorcerers: the way she treats her whole life like a job. Momo has internalized the culture she despises, and instead of trying to rebel, she just accepts all of it as “the way the world works.” She soldiers on, just as Noritoshi soldiers on with his family’s expectations, Mai soldiers on with her pain and feeling of being abanoned, and Mechamaru soldiers on with the isolation, unfairness, and general misery that comes with his Heavenly Pact. Soldiering on, as if soldiering on has inherent value when it leads nowhere and accomplishes nothing. Never addressing the problem, or trying to find a way around it; simply rolling that boulder up the hill, grumbling all the way. She and the other Kyoto Students have this sense of treating their own misfortune as a badge of honor. To them, they’re justified and validated because they have experienced more than their fair share of suffering. They’re always eager to flaunt the crosses they have to bear.

Momo treats being a woman as a curse. Funny how that ties into the rest of the narrative, huh?

For Nobara, being a woman is not some great burden she has to live with. Being a woman in general and being Nobara Kugisaki in particular is something she revels in, and it’s just the fault of everyone else if they think otherwise.

Let’s talk about Nobara, and let’s not reduce her to her death scene. When we meet Nobara, she’s immersing herself in the Tokyo way of life after moving from the countryside to the big city. She encounters a sleazy talent agency recruiter who’s pestering women on the street with his hand-rubbing, obviously nefarious ways… only for Nobara to stop him, turn him around, and say, “What about me?” He gets intimidated, tries to run, and she drags him back. From her perspective, he should be happy to have her, and the fact he isn’t means he’s ignorant of her beauty and wit and needs to be corrected. If he won’t convert to Kugisakism, then her charms are wasted on him, and he’s doomed to the dim world that is Nobaralessness. When she meets Yuji and Megumi, she introduces herself with a line that’s translated into English as, “I’m the only woman in your group.” But from what I’ve been able to gather, her line in Japanese is, “I’m the red mark.” The phrase “red mark” can mean “the one who’s different from the others” — like the one girl in a group of boys — or it can mean “the one who stands out.” So you can also read it as her saying, “I’m the stand-out of the group.” Nobara Kugisaki, everybody.

If you want to talk about how literary circles analyze how women are writing, let’s leave the topics of fight outcomes and feats to one side. One thing you immediately look for is motivation. What’s motivating a character? This is important for how female characters are written, and especially in Shonen, which revolves so much around characters with some goal or belief that the story pursues through fights and other forms of adversity.

Now poorly-written women will tend to be motivated by men. They’ll be attracted to a man, or trying to support or protect a man, or trying to find a man. This by itself isn’t a death sentence for a woman’s characterization, but it is a red flag. It’s also not as if women have to never interact with or think about men to be well-written. It’s not an on-off switch, a bad writing-good writing switch. It’s a meter, like Mahoraga steadily adapting to a technique. Just a little bit is fine, and can be even turned into good writing in capable hands. But if it becomes too prevalent and is never examined, then you get a situation where a story’s women are not permitted lives outside of being in a male character’s orbit.

How do we gauge this? Well, there are lots of ways, but one of the more well-known and simple techniques is the Bechdel test. The name is derived from Alison Bechdel, feminist author who penned such classics as Dykes to Watch Out For. Bechdel proposed a simple litmus test for how to tell an author’s seriousness about writing women, and it goes like this: 1.) Look for scenes where women talk to each other. 2.) In those scenes, check for how often they’re talking about things besides male characters.

This isn’t the only way to tell if women are written well or not, and some will say it isn’t even the best way, but it’s a good foot in the door to get us thinking about what divides well-written female characters from poorly-written female characters. I’m not going to go back and scan through the whole manga just yet, but let’s look at some examples.

— The aforementioned conversation between Nobara and Momo, where the two pit their different view of what it means to be a woman and a sorcerer against one another. — Maki and Nobara talking to each other after the encounter with Mai and Todo. Curious by meeting Maki’s sister, Nobara talks to Maki a bit about their upbringing. Having gained more insights into Maki’s past and personality, Nobara leans on her and tells her how much she respects her. — Miwa and Mai discussing the upcoming Goodwill Event in a flashback. Mai tells Miwa that Maki is weak, which leaves Miwa unprepared for their fight. — Maki and Mai arguing and coming to terms with what drove them apart. Mai just wanted a peaceful life with Maki, but Maki couldn’t be happy and authentic with herself if she just left things the way they were. She was forced to choose between herself and Mai, and Maki chose herself, knowing that Mai would suffer and that she’d shoulder some of the guilt for that.

This indicates that GeGe found it important to divorce the identities of the female characters from male characters. And this holds true in what drives and motivates the female cast.

Nobara is motivated by her own goals. She hates the countryside, and she loves the city; becoming a sorcerer is a way she can make a lot of money, live in the city, and pursue the kind of lifestyle she values. She wants to be a true blue Tokyoite, wearing trendy clothes and eating crepes and taking selfies by the statue of Hachiko outside Shibuya Station. She’s not doing this to avenge her dead brother, she’s not doing this to find her father, she’s not searching for a strong man to sire strong children — yuck. Nobara has aesthetic values and strongly held beliefs, and becoming a sorcerer lets her pursue those values and beliefs.

And if you really want to analyze the action side of Jujutsu Kaisen as an indicator for how GeGe feels about female characters, consider how Nobara takes to sorcery like a fish to water. Both Megumi and Yuji have their own internal dilemmas with being a sorcerer, but not Nobara. In a series where mindset is so important, Nobara has the mindset. Uro describes the model sorcerer as having “no concern for others and an overwhelming sense of self.” There is no one with a more overwhelming sense of self than Nobara. She’s loud, opinionated, loves to argue, flaunts herself, and demands other people give her more than what they think she’s due. She’s narcissistic, but that faith in herself makes her mentally strong.

She lacks experience, but even then, she learns and grows rapidly through the series. Due to running out of nails to fend off cursed spirits during the first stretch of Fearsome Womb chapters, she invents Hairpin as a way to reuse nails she’s already launched and embedded in a surface. She manages to land a Black Flash during the tag team fight with Yuji, and it’s her oppressive use of Resonance on Eso and Kechizu that turns the tides — a tactic which required her to hammer nails into her own arm. She takes it on the chin and gets her brain rattled around in her skull during the fight with Haruta, but even while borderline unconscious and suffering from a concussion, she forces herself to keep him talking in hopes Nitta can escape and manages to get to her feet and keep fighting despite the total disorientation and inability to summon her strength. While she didn’t win the fight, she showed more fighting spirit than half of the male cast tends to, and I find it kind of gross that people will ignore all of that and mock someone who kept fighting against the odds. That’s like laughing at Mumen Rider when he’s hopelessly trying to fight Sea King even as his body is breaking. I don’t exactly see what about either case is so funny or worthy of ridicule.

Even in the showdown with Mahito, people always fixate on how she dies, but never consider what led to it. She crosses paths with Mahito, and even knowing from Yuji what he’s capable of, she goes in — partially because he hurt Yuji, her friend, and she wants to make him suffer for it. And her technique turns out to be a worst case scenario for Mahito. She’s hammering his clone with Resonance and sending the blowback to the original while he’s fighting Yuji, dividing his attention and weakening him. Her only mistake was chasing him down, and even then, this isn’t the story punishing her. It’s the story being consistent with who Nobara is. She’s got a dangerous enemy on the ropes, her pride is bruised after the fight with Haruta, and she has a chance to get vengeance on someone who’s hurt her friend while helping said friend in the process. If she hadn’t followed Mahito into the subway, then she wouldn’t be Nobara Kugisaki.

And in her final moments, Nobara achieves something that’s considered to be out of reach of most sorcerers. She dies content, with a smile on her face. Nobara may not have realized her potential to be a great sorcerer, but she got what she, personally, wanted. Sorcery was a means to an end, and she got to live the Tokyo life and meet interesting people that she considers her friends. She got to fill out that finite number of seats in her life, and even meet a few people who pulled up a chair when she didn’t expect it. In her words, “It wasn’t so bad.” Nobody else but Toji and Gojo have gotten to die this satisfied — Toji because Megumi had grown up free of the Zen’in curse, Gojo because he was authentic to himself right to the end and left it all on the field. Nobara was authentic to herself right to the end, and that’s worthy of high praise. If she is definitely dead and not coming back, then she managed to accomplish what it was she wanted before dying. Not many get that luxury in Jujutsu Kaisen. It hurts because I liked her and admired her and appreciate the way she was written, and her dying doesn’t make the value of her character disappear from the story entirely. It’s the character’s death, it’s everything that led to that death and what that death means to them and to those who are left behind. And if it’s manga that explore death, nobody does it better than GeGe Akutami.

Lots of people will point to an interview where GeGe said that Nobara was not originally considered part of the cast, and they’ll use that as evidence that secretly, GeGe’s a big stupid misogynist who hates women and likes killing them in stories and blah blah blah blah blah. You know, first of all, I doubt that the editor held a gun to GeGe’s head and said “Put in a female main character or die.” Secondly, if GeGe really didn’t care, Nobara would just be a two-dimensional copy of Sakura who dies in the first arc or two. GeGe would not have put in the effort to set her apart from other female leads, or given her so many stand-out moments, or given her such an interesting motivation and world view. In short, if GeGe didn’t want to write a female character, they’d do what Kishimoto did: write Sakura. But that comparison is a can of worms I’ll need to pry open another time.

To sum up for the time being, no, GeGe Akutami does not hate women. Losing a fight does not make a female character worthless, and does not indicate a disdain for them on the part of the author. I don’t know about you, but I don’t read Shonen just to see who punches harder. I want to see characters be challenged, sometimes fail, learn, grow, and overcome adversity — and it wouldn’t be adversity if all the characters I like win and survive easily. I love Kashimo and will continue to love Kashimo, and Kashimo being super ultra dead doesn’t change that.

Look out for Part 2, in which I’m going to unpack some really contentious stuff when it comes to challenges and female characters in Jujutsu Kaisen. We’re gonna talk about the concept of screen time, we’re gonna talk about subtext, we’re gonna talk about great expectations and the great unexpected in Jujutsu Kaisen, and we’re gonna talk more in-depth about the narrative outside the narrative of Jujutsu Kaisen in a vacuum. If your sense for danger is giving you a bad feeling about this, then it should be: we’re talking about that. Switch on your Anti-Gravity System, it’s going to get messy.

#jujutsu kaisen #literary analysis #analysis #jjk analysis #feminism #feminist literature #feminist literary analysis #nobara kugisaki #maki zenin #akutami gege

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devskindawritingblog · 4 months

Note

I remembered to send the ask to your writing blog this time!

Okay, here’s my idea for Shauna: she and reader aren’t dating yet, just best friends (sorry Jackie) and reader doesn’t know what to get her for Christmas. Then Shauna accidentally leaves her journal at their house, and they read it to try to get an idea for her gift. But instead they find all her entries about how she’s in love with reader. Shauna finds out and gets really mad, but she’s actually just embarrassed and scared that she ruined their friendship. But then reader kisses her and tells her they love her too. Turns out the perfect Christmas gift for Shauna was a girlfriend

Christmas Confessions

Shauna shipman x reader

AN: My last Yellowjackets Christmas fic! And of course my lovely tumblr wife requested it😘. I made the reader and Shauna besties and didn’t want to try and include Jackie somehow so I just don’t mention her. Shauna’s text is in green. And I put like the journal flashback things are in italics And the word count is I think the biggest at almost 1.8k. Also now that my Christmas things are done I’ll totally take requests. I’ll take requests about anyone that I have written for so far.

You and Shauna have been best friends since kindergarten. You have always been inseparable. Always having sleepovers together even joining the soccer team in grade 9. Everyone at school knows about you too and how much you care for one another.

One time in grade 2 a few of the boys were making fun of you and pushed you and that was the first time Shauna punched someone for you. That was when you first realized how much you would do for each other. Sure, Shauna got in trouble but it was grade 2 so she didn’t catch that much slack.

After that point no one messed with either of you. People were scared of Shauna and they were scared of what Shauna would do if they hurt you. And it was like that even in highschool.

————————————————————————

December 12, 1996

You and Shauna are both in your senior year now. She came over for her weekly sleepover. The two of you were hanging out like you normally do. Watching a movie, listening to music, and sometimes just laying there together.

That was the thing you loved about Shauna; the silences were never awkward. You could lay there and talk or just sit. Sometimes Shauna would write in her journal while you did homework.

You start to think she loves that journal more than you. She always had it around. You learned early that she is very private about it. So you don’t ask to read it anymore. She’s your best friends but she can keep her thoughts and feelings private if she truly wants to.

Shauna had already left after having dinner with your family. Her mom had been in a rush to go somewhere. You go back into your room and that’s when you notice Shauna's journal sitting right on your bed. She must have forgotten it because she was rushing.

You move it off your bed and place it on your nightstand. You will give it to her at school on Monday you think to yourself as you lay down on your bed. An hour passes every so often you glance over at the journal.

You realize you still need ideas for what to get Shauna for Christmas. You look over at the journal and grab it. You get a good idea. You might as well take a little look to find possible gift ideas. It couldn't possibly hurt, right?

The cover has her name printed neatly with a pen. For a second you hesitate hoping nothing too personal is in her journal. It will only be for a few minutes you say to yourself. That reassures you and you flip open the first page.

————————————————————————

June 28 1996. You knew Shauna got a new journal at the end of grade 11, because you two found it at the mall together. You picked it up and showed it to her.

“Look Shaunie, it's green. Don’t you need a new one?” You said to her. Shauna ended up buying it. What you didn't notice back then was how Shauna looked at you that day or any day really.

The entry is pretty normal. It talks about your guys mall trip. And how you guys got ice cream. You smile to yourself as you remember how much fun you had with her. It talks about how you got ice cream all over your face and Shauna had to get a napkin and wipe it off.You finally notice how she talks about you. Sure you're close and give each other compliments but this feels different. You shrug it off and keep searching.

The next few entries are all in the summer. Mostly talking about the family vacation she went on .You flip to another entry.

————————————————————————

August 5 1996. You and Shauna were at her house. It explains what you guys did that day. Shauna had gotten a new lip gloss for her birthday and you both were trying it out. Shauna put it on first, rubbing her lips together. She writes about how you put it on as well. You remember how much you liked the lipgloss. The lovely pink shine looked great on your lips. And Shauna definitely thought so too. In fact she goes into great detail about how much she did like it.

You pause a confused look on your face. The sudden realization hits you hard. How did you not notice? You keep reading trying to confirm if you're not going crazy. You blush as you read the last sentence.

“I wanted to kiss them so badly.” Shauna writes with a few pink hearts around your name. You suddenly feel really guilty but also relieved. You have known you like Shauna for a while. But you have been too scared to confess. How could you ruin your relationship with her like that?

You have so many conflicting feelings. You're happy she likes you back, but nervous as to how she would respond about you snooping around in her private journal.

At this point you can't stop reading them. Each one is a different day. Each entry delves into just how big of a crush Shauna truly has.

————————————————————————

September 25 1996.

This one was around your first few weeks of grade 12. You and Shauna were in the same English Lit class. You went over to study with her. It was a fun night. but clearly Shauna saw it differently. She spent a good paragraph talking about your silly jokes and describing just how much she loves your laugh.

————————————————————————

October 31 1996

The two of you went to Lottie's annual halloween party. Of course dressed in matching costumes. You spent a long time finding a cute costume that would match with one another. The entry sounds pretty normal except for Shauna’s clear jealousy to you playing spin the bottle with the other girls. You ended up having to kiss Natalie. It was all for fun and games but clearly Shauna didn’t think so. You read it over and Shauna sounds angry.

“It should have been me kissing them.” She finishes off the entry with that angrily scribbled in pen.

The next few entries are about the same. You feel bad for reading all her personal thoughts and feelings. But you can’t seem to stop yourself from reading. You spend 2 hours reading all of the entries. You lay in your bed contemplating what you should do?

Give it back to her?

Confront her?

Keep her in the dark?

You run through all the ideas and scenarios in your head. Your anxiety builds and builds. You decide to sleep on it, you're exhausted from all the thoughts of what could happen.

You wake up on Sunday morning rubbing your eyes as you look over and see her journal staring back at you. You get up and get dressed, determined to tell her.

Your mom went out to do some Christmas shopping and you left her journal open on your bed.

You hear a shape knock on your door. You walk over to the front door and open it to a slightly flushed Shauna. She’s dressed in her iconic flannel .

“Uh,hi, sorry for showing up unannounced but I-uh left my journal here last night.” She is clearly nervous that you might have read it .

“Oh! Right, come in , it’s uh in my room.” You say ushering her in, your face heating up as your heart pounds.

You bring her into your room forgetting that you left her journal open on your bed. She walks in after you as you quickly grab it, closing it and passing it to her.

“Did you read it?” She says half nervous half accusatory. You stumble over your words as all your thoughts slip from your mind.

“You did read it ! You know it’s private!” She yells pacing around your bedroom. You try to jump into it to try and defend yourself but she’s not having any of it.

Shauna never yells at you and this version of her scares you.

“Shauna plea-“ You try to say but she cuts you off to mad to listen. “You know how I feel about you don’t you? You know how I feel about you ?” She says her voice quiets a bit.

“I can’t believe you would do this!” She starts yelling again. She sounds almost disappointed and it makes you feel worse. But you have to tell her.

You start tuning her out as you work up the courage She goes on about how mad she is. But you're not listening anymore. You step closer to her. She stops noticing the look on your face.

“What?” She starts to say before you quickly cut her off. You lean forward cupping her face and pulling her into a passionate kiss.

Her breath hitches and she gasps in shock. You pull back a little, noses touching. “Is this ok?” You say a hushed whisper. Shauna nods and smiles wrapping her arms around your waist, pulling you into another kiss this time.

You both end up on your bed, Shauna's journal discarded on the floor. As you too enjoy your first kiss together. Shauna’s hands behind your neck as you both make out.

Shauna lays down with you and you smile . “I love you too. You know ?” You say as Shauna blushes remembering that you read all the things she said about you.

“Did you actually read like everything?” Shauna says quietly as she plays with the hem of your pants. You blush too a little embarrassed. “Yeah uh I did , funny enough I was trying to find an idea for a Christmas present.” You say as Shauna’s embarrassment slowly disappears.

“That stuff I wrote was a little uh well you know.” Shauna says turning shy again. “It was really cute Shaunie.” You say with a little smirk. She groans and covers her face. “Especially when you said that you wanted to fight Natalie during halloween.” You say giggling a little at Shauna’s flustered face.

“I also heard all about how you love when I wear this shirt.” You say sitting up a little to give her a full look. Her eyes widen a little and she somehow blushes more red.

“That's mean.” She whines but you both know now that she is loving this. She eyes you up and down and pulls you in for another kiss. “I bought you that shirt for your birthday.”

“I know silly you went on and on about it.” You tease as you pull her down with you and pull her into another long kiss.

“You know what? It turns out I got you what you wanted for Christmas.”

“Really what was it?”

“Me.”

#yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets christmas #Shauna shipman #shauna shipman x reader

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ineffableaddiction · 1 month

Text

Part 6: Not even at Gunpoint?

A Good Omens Fan Fic

He woke up. It was morning somewhere, but judging by the light filtering through the windows, it was probably afternoon here. Putting on dark glasses, then glancing at his watch, he realized just how long he’d been asleep.

The next thing he noticed was a scent which quickly pulled him downstairs. Examining his surroundings, he soon realized his error. “To sleep…. perchance to dream,” he murmured to no one in particular.

Walking over to the desk, Crowley sat down and gazed at the shelves to his right. He reached out a hand and let it move over various books, journals, and an assortment of other purely Aziraphale things. His hand paused on one in particular. Without thinking, he took the small, bound book from the shelf and just held it. This is the scent that drove him downstairs so quickly. It was everywhere.

He would need to get used to that. Crowley had taken his plants from the Bentley and set them up in the guest room of the bookshop before closing his eyes to sleep, and for the first time had woken up to the lingering presence of Aziraphale. Crowley missed his best friend.

Muriel was still new to Earth and didn’t find a need to sleep. Or eat. Crowley did convince her that she needed an outfit more appropriate for one who sells books.

The new clothes made the angel less obvious, yet she was still not quite blending in. She hadn’t been on Earth long enough to see what is current for the times, so she dressed as one would in a book, and in that book was from the 1930s. Muriel chose a blue dress with evenly distributed white spots, which was worn underneath a white jacket, and accessorized with a thin white belt and white shoes with what Muriel determined were practical heels. It made her seem either very much from a different time or on the cutting edge of fashion. Crowley had been around long enough to see certain styles fall in and out of favor.

At some point before his nap, Crowley seemed to have agreed to run the bookshop, with Muriel acting as his assistant. He recalled a conversation that was something about blending in and something else about not knowing how humans ran bookshops.

“Demons don’t know how to run bookshops either. Do I look like I’d run a bookshop?”

The thought of actual customers coming into the shop intimidated Muriel. “I don’t know how to handle the people. What if they ask me something a human should know? What if they insist on buying a book? If they find out I’m an angel, I can get in a lot of trouble.”

Crowley grudgingly agreed to take over the management of the bookshop. Aziraphale had entrusted him with it once, not that long ago. How hard could it be, only being open one or two hours on various days, not selling anything and scaring away customers?

Today marked the not-so-grand reopening that was both not advertised nor really wanted. Still holding the book, Crowley turned the sign on the door to indicate that the bookshop was open, then returned to the desk. Muriel was nervously pacing and rehearsing some of the pleasantries that Crowley had taught her. “How can I assist you?” “We’re closing soon.” “We don’t have that book in stock.” “They probably have that book at the shop a few blocks away.” “Have a pleasant day.”

Crowley glanced down at the book in his hand and opened it. He turned to a random page, and for quite awhile forgot to breathe. He recognized Aziraphale’s script and realized he was looking at a journal or diary and what was written wasn’t meant for him. He gently closed the book and just held it, seemingly deep in thought.

The chime of the bell on the door didn’t register at first, but then he heard Muriel asking the customer how she could be of assistance. Shifting his gaze to Muriel, it struck Crowley as odd when he noticed a small, neatly wrapped package in the customer’s hand. The customer was trying to give it to Muriel, who had not rehearsed what to do when a customer tried to bring you things and was beginning to panic. As he put that piece of Aziraphale back on the shelf, something fell from the book. He glanced down and stopped breathing for the second time. He’d have to deal with that later.

Seconds passed, and Crowley appeared beside the customer, announced that he was the shopkeeper and could he be of service. Muriel, with a look of relief. stood and observed.

“I was told to bring this here, but this is the first time I’ve seen your shop open.” The customer handed him the package, which was addressed to the bookshop in care of AJC. That was odd.

The customer left as quickly as they’d arrived.

“What is that?” Muriel was beside him, looking at the package with a mix of curiosity, distrust and confusion.

“I’m not quite sure, but let’s find out.” Crowley went back to the desk and sat down. He opened the package, which contained a book that had Aziraphale’s name written on the first page in his neat handwriting. There was nothing else written in the book, but there was a small note, decidedly not in Aziraphale’s handwriting, that said:

3rd Alt Rendezvous

Crowley looked through the packaging to be sure something wasn’t missed, but found nothing.

“That was a fabulous first day. I need to go. Don’t let anyone in.” Turning the sign on the door back to closed as he left, he was quickly in his Bentley heading towards the bandstand. He glanced at the book, now sitting on the seat beside him, frustrated and unsure how long the delivery had been delayed. The shop, while never keeping regular hours, had been open for less than fifteen minutes since the morning after the ball. The method of delivery didn’t indicate when they were assigned this task.

At least the Bentley was allowing him to drive at his normal speed.

On arrival, Crowley parked the car and rushed to the bandstand. It was empty, so he surveyed his surroundings and found nothing out of place. Alone, he opened the book and stared at Aziraphale’s name. “What is this? Who sent it? Am I too late?” Closing the book, Crowley anxiously paced and began talking to no one rather loudly. “Do you need me Aziraphale? Did you send me this bloody book? Why here?”

No answer came, so Crowley waited.

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #good omens fanfiction #are you a bookseller too #not even at gunpoint #the bookshop #ineffable spouses

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sparksqfly · 11 months

Text

─ So much for summer love𓆝

synopsis: modern au - you meet ellie during a school activity and start getting involved in an intense relationship.

warnings! bad words, low self-esteem, men being bothersome, etc.

author's note: it's actually terrifying to publish this here. i'm a very private person with my writing, but my friend told me I should share it, so i listened to her. english is not my first language, so please forgive any errors I may have made. i did my best <3

about the story: joel is referred to as ellie's father. references to taylor swift and her music, the reader is a huge swiftie (just like the writer hehehe). i have the entire story written, but i divided it into parts to make it less lengthy. If you like it, i will publish the remaining parts! thank you for reading.

wc: 4,5k (sorry)

a loud and familiar horn woke you up from your trance, jesse and dina. you looked at yourself in the mirror again to see if "you weren't trying too hard," sighed, and decided to leave your room. you realized it had taken you 2 hours to get ready and cursed yourself for being so indecisive when it came to putting together a damn outfit for a stupid school trip. although, on second thought, if there was something that had made you hesitate so much about what to wear that day, it was what ms. smith had said on friday in the last few minutes of class. "remember that this activity in the forest will be done in pairs, but not just any pair. it will be two people that the directors of both schools have decided to put together based on their academic performance and behavior within the school." great, now you couldn't spend the entire forest activity arm in arm with dina, gossiping about trivial things. instead, you would be spending the whole afternoon with a stranger that the 40-year-old administrators had decided you should be with.

you let out a sigh, coming out of your thoughts, and sent a message to jesse saying that you had lost track of time and to wait five minutes as you would be ready. didn't bother waiting for a response and threw your phone into a medium-sized white backpack along with some sanitizing wipes, band-aids, sunglasses, a hair tie, some money, your headphones, and some candies you had on your nightstand. didn't bother arranging everything neatly as you would if only you weren't in such a hurry. you slung the bag over your shoulder and glanced at yourself one last time in the mirror, looking at the curls you had struggled to create, and adjusted the small ribbon that held some of your hair back at the back of your head.

you rushed out of your room while grabbing your keys and a lip balm that was on the table, and bid rufus, your orange cat, a high-pitched goodbye. he would be somewhere in the house, but he didn't really care much about you leaving. you opened the door, briefly glancing back into your house, vaguely checking the mental checklist you had made the night before. you decided that if you had forgotten something, it wasn't important anyway because if it were, you would have remembered it by now.

you locked the door of your house and smiled as you saw dina holding onto jesse while leaning halfway out of the passenger window to greet you.

"y/n! over here!" shouted the black-haired girl as you stored the key in your messy bag on your shoulder. "please stop," sighed jesse with exasperation, watching his brown jacket crinkle from how tightly dina was gripping it.

amid laughter, you entered the car and sat in the back seat, placing your bag beside you. you looked at your friends and then leaned forward to form a three-way hug. "wow, looking pretty today," dina smiled, admiring your white dress. jesse lovingly took a strand of your hair and observed, "i've always wondered how you girls use heat styling tools on your hair, yet it never smells burnt."

dina and you exchanged glances before bursting into laughter at jesse's concentrated expression while analyzing your hair. you rested your head back on the seat and watched jesse start the car with his key. you had always loved that things were uncomplicated with them—they knew each other so well that sometimes not a single word needed to be spoken to feel comfortable.

after about 5 minutes of driving and heading towards the school, dina connected music to the stereo and settled in her seat to look at both of you. "are you excited to see who your travel partner will be?" dina asked, looking specifically at you. you sighed and glanced at your dress again. "i wish I could say no, but i spent all night thinking about what to wear today and what people will think of me," you admitted. "whoever you're paired with, i'm sure you'll get along well, unlike us, you're kind and fun," jesse said with what you called his "older brother aura." "you guys are fun... sometimes," you said, looking at them with a smirk. "thanks, and if you're both interested, on friday, as i was coming back from the bathroom to go home, i overheard the teachers talking about the pairs being of the same gender to avoid the things we couples do in the forest when we're alone," dina looked at you, and you returned her knowing gaze. "maybe you can find a beautiful girlfriend, y/n." jesse looked at you through the rearview mirror and smiled, "you read my mind, sir." dina looked at you accusingly again, and you laughed at their insistent looks focused on you. "to be honest, i would like to meet someone here, a girl. It sounds romantic."

"imagine it until it becomes real" dina said, winking at you and leaning back in her seat. she looked at the stereo with a smile on her face. "i love this song" she said as she dramatically raised the volume knob to "circles" by post malone. unexpectedly, jesse started singing the song in a comically off-key manner, and you burst into laughter, joining in with loud and off-key singing. you truly loved them.

after about 15 minutes of driving, you arrived at the school. the sidewalk was painfully crowded with people, but you could hardly recognize anyone from your class or the hallways. jesse parked the car a couple of blocks ahead, knowing how difficult it would be to get back to the car once everyone dispersed. you helped them unload their belongings and slung your small white backpack back onto your shoulder. that's when you realized it might have been a mistake to pack so few things in such a small bag. everyone else had large backpacks and even more belongings in huge tote bags. you sighed. what was the point of carrying so many things anyway? your teachers had made it clear that everything you would need for the trip, such as food, water, or even warm clothing if necessary, would be provided by the school and the guides.

you snapped back to reality, coming out of your thoughts as you walked behind your friends back to the school, trying to smooth out your dress with your hands. once you reached the school, you had a better view of what others were wearing, and you felt relieved to see several girls wearing skirts and dresses even shorter than yours, which reached just above your knees. however, it was slightly longer at the back, not long enough to touch your ankles or the top of your white converse sneakers anyway

you had to wait for about 15 minutes before the teachers decided to group them by schools into two separate groups. you watched as even more people arrived than when you had first glanced from jesse's car. you rested your head on dina's shoulder while a middle-aged man who introduced himself as mr. emery explained the first game of the day, this time to find their excursion partners. you caught some parts of his speech as you were somewhat far from the teachers, and the students seemed unable to stop talking for a second, including dina, who already seemed to have made friends with a short, blonde-haired girl. when mr. emery finished speaking, you quickly approached jesse.

"what did he say?" you asked urgently, your expression desperate to understand what had been said amidst the hurried movements and conversations of everyone present in the courtyard. he chuckled slightly at your desperate expression and the sight of the bustling crowd. "he said they're going to write a number assigned to each of us on our hand, and we have to find our partner in the crowd because the partner will have the same number" jesse replied. "that's ridiculous, it's only going to cause more chaos," dina chimed in, magically appearing behind your back. "dina! you scared the shit out of me!" you whispered, looking at your friend who smirked, before you could continue complaining about how terrifying it was to interact with people, your math teacher approached jesse and grabbed his fist, writing a medium-sized thirteen on the back of his hand and then left without saying a word. "obviously, i'm going to have great luck with my partner today" jesse joked, showing dina and you his number. dina laughed, and you smiled. "are you kidding me? it's number thirteen! taylor swift's number! i'm really jealous of you right now!" jesse let out a small laugh with adoration towards you and ruffled your hair slightly before going to the group from the neighboring school to assume, to look for his partner.

dina and you exchanged smiles, and a middle-aged man with gray hair and dark circles under his eyes called you by your last name, and you handed him your hand, indicating that it was you, seeing the permanent marker on his hand. he gave you a smile and, after checking a small grid on a sheet of paper, wrote a "27" on your hand, the same size as jesse's. you brought your hand closer to you and smiled at him. "wow, you're my daughter's partner" he smiled shyly, and you looked at him more closely, remembering his face in case his daughter physically resembled him. "she's a rather reserved girl, but I think you'll get along well" he said. "i hope so" you replied kindly, not having much else to say. He smiled at you and left. "getting to know the father-in-law?" dina startled you again, magically appearing behind you. you rolled your eyes. "you're unbearable" you said, laughing, and did the typical military salute that you knew she hated before going to look for your famous partner.

well... agonizing 15 minutes had passed (although if you were asked, you would swear it had been 30) looking for your partner. you had seen the hands of dozens of girls, but none seemed to have a 27 on the back of their hand. you were about to give up and approach a teacher to see if it was some sort of mistake on their part, considering that there were very few people left in the courtyard as most had already found their partners and boarded the bus. just when you were about to go talk to your math teacher, you saw a girl with auburn hair and a blue and white shirt leaning against one of the bus walls, you noticed that you hadn't seen her before in the crowd, and honestly, you had nothing to lose by trying one last time. any sense of embarrassment had vanished after talking to the tenth person who seemed to have your number, but in reality, it wasn't the right one. besides, this girl was really attractive and seemed kind, shy but friendly.

you approached her, who, despite having you in front of her, didn't pay much attention to you. you took advantage of that moment to look at her closely. she had a perfect profile with eyebrows that framed her face perfectly, a beautiful upturned nose, medium but full lips that seemed dry, and admirable green orbs that appeared like tourmalines of the same color in the light. only when you snapped out of your trance of admiring her did you realize that her eyes were fixed on you with an arched eyebrow, seeing that you had stayed still, lost in her appearance.

you cleared your throat before speaking to her, ignoring the warmth you felt rising in your cheeks and how flushed you must have been. oh my god. she was just a girl. why were you reacting like this? "could I see your number? i'm really looking for my partner, and i think you're the only one i haven't asked" you offered a smile as you spoke, and she just looked into your eyes with an expression you couldn't decipher. you expected some verbal response, but she only raised her fist slightly, and you had to gather courage for the next step: delicately took her hand and noticed a brief shiver from the girl as you touched her skin with the tips of your fingers. not wanting to make her uncomfortable, you carefully turned her hand and finally found the number 27 written on it.

you released her fist and with a smile, showed her your left hand where the same number was written. "we're partners" you smiled and adjusted your bag on your shoulder. "cool." you let pass what you suspected was a hint of sarcasm in her voice. nah, she didn't seem like that kind of person. "you have no idea how much i was looking for you, asked almost everyone" you said with excitement in your voice. She smiled slightly, noticing the emotion in your voice. "mind if we get on the bus?" you added a questioning tone at the end so that she would tell you her name. "ellie" she responded with a hint of a smile on her lips. "ellie, ah, wonderful!" you smiled back at her and were startled by the loud honk of the bus ahead. In a panic of being left behind, you grabbed ellie's hand, where her number was written, and joined it with yours, gently pulling her along as you started running towards the bus with her behind you.

you both boarded the bus, and you let go of her hand when the driver closed the door behind the two of you. you told your last name to the guide sitting in the front seat, moved forward to find an empty seat for both of you, and found one a little further ahead. you turned back and caught the last name ellie whispered to the woman, "williams, ellie williams, that's a nice name" you thought to yourself once you sat in the bus seat. you gestured to your companion with your head for her to sit next to you, and fortunately, she did.

before you could start a conversation, mr. emery stood up and began explaining the agenda for the day in the forest. Seeing that ellie was paying attention to what he was saying, you diverted your eyes from her to finally listen to an authority figure. "guys, you have to listen to me. we don't want to make this any longer for you. the proposal for today is a race" said the authority. Immediately, all the teenagers on the bus let out an "ohh" of disappointment, which was exactly what you thought too. had they been planning this for so long just for a long physical education class in the forest for five hours? you sighed and looked back at mr. emery, who was gesturing for everyone to let him continue with the explanation.

"i know what you're thinking, and don't worry, it's not what you kids believe. the race will consist of 3 stages of riddles, which will be explained better when you get there, but to give you an example, the first one will be to find three hidden symbols in different trees scattered in a section of the forest. once the duo has all the symbols noted down, they can move on to the next stage, which will also be a riddle." this time the reactions were mixed; you noticed some excited faces as well as some girls rolling their eyes and talking to their friends. on the other hand, ellie seemed interested in what had been told, even excited, you could say. you smiled as you observed her trying to hide her smile by pressing her lips together.

"i need you to listen to one last thing," mr. emery said, raising his hand and showing a purple ribbon. "this is the race boundary. you can't go beyond where this ribbon is located. it's a dangerous place, with traps for bears, big bears, wolves, and foxes. if you happen to encounter any of those and there's no teacher nearby, it's a BAD sign. you'll end up devoured by an animal and dead." you guessed the last part was sarcasm, although it didn't sound like it.

you paled at the mention of bears and traps so close to where you would be, until a voice snapped you out of your trance. "you don't actually think there are bears there, do you, pretty girl?" ellie said, looking at you with a sideways smile that disappeared when she realized you were genuinely scared. "hey, don't worry, there are no bears. he only says that to scare us and prevent us from crossing the boundaries." as she spoke, she placed a hand on your knee and gently moved it in circles. you smiled and placed your hand on top of hers, both "27" on top of each other. but before you could respond, your annoying classmates started playing horrible music at full volume and screaming while playing stupid games only they could understand. "oh, fuck me" you sighed heavily, looking at the white ceiling of the bus.

ellie, who had been looking back at your classmates, turned her gaze to you. "are they always like this?" she asked incredulously. "always" you replied, feeling somewhat embarrassed. ellie stood up to remove her (now that you could see it clearly) huge backpack from her lap and placed it under the seat. you took the opportunity to take out your earphones and phone from your bag, revealing a picture of rufus asleep on a book on your lock screen. ellie sat back down next to you, spreading her legs as you connected your earphones. you searched for the playlist you usually used to travel with jesse and dina (which was mainly taylor swift) and pressed shuffle. then you offered one of your headphones to ellie, who accepted with a smile, moving a little closer to you. In that moment, you thanked rufus, who had broken your airpods a week ago, leaving you with your wired headphones.

after about 10 minutes of the journey, you relaxed as ellie seemed to enjoy your music. you noticed her nodding her head to the rhythm, and you smiled. you wanted to rest your head on the bus window since you were extremely tired from waking up so early and staring at your reflection for so long. but just as you were about to close your eyes and finally get some rest, your classmates, of course, chose that moment to slam your window shut forcefully, startling you as you quickly lifted your head in alarm, while they burst into laughter, high-fiving each other. you sighed, trying not to look at them or ellie, feeling humiliated by the knowledge that they wouldn't take you seriously anyway. however, ellie seemed to have a different idea about how to act.

"hey! what the fuck is your problem with her?!" ellie stood up abruptly, slamming her hands firmly on the back of your seat. fortunately, not many people noticed what was happening amidst the loud music and shouts on the bus. ellie exchanged some harsh words with them, which you couldn't hear, and one of the guys stood up, touched your back, and apologized with his head down. you nodded slightly and turned to play the song again.

"sorry about that" ellie said, sitting back down beside you. "they're just a bunch of idiots. ond't let them get to you." you managed to smile gratefully at her before continuing your sentence.

"i'm glad you stood up for me. not many people do."

"well, I don't tolerate assholes" ellie replied with a hint of determination in her voice. "besides, we're going to have a great time on this race, and I won't let anyone ruin it for us."

her words brought a genuine smile to your face. perhaps this race wouldn't turn out to be so bad after all, especially with ellie by your side. as you leaned back in your seat, finally finding some peace, you silently thanked rufus again for breaking your airpods and bringing ellie into your life.

you offered ellie the headphone again, and she gently took it, her fingertips brushing against yours as she put it on. "do you want me to change the music?" you offered as you were about to turn off your phone screen to try and get some sleep. she shook her head. "i've never heard this music before, but it's pleasant. it goes well with the journey." you nodded with a smile. she couldn't possibly be real. She was so nice and attractive, and she called you "pretty girl"?! You blushed, replaying those words in your mind with her voice, and decided to strike up a conversation.

"so... is that your cat on your wallpaper?" you were surprised to see that she had initiated the conversation between the two of you. you quickly glanced at your phone, looking at the photo of rufus peacefully asleep on top of a stack of books. "yes, my cat. his name is rufus. my mom brought him home during christmas. he was tiny and on the streets. he's the devil incarnate in an orange cat. do you have any pets?" instantly, you wanted to cover your mouth for talking too much, fearing that you had overwhelmed ellie with information. but as if she had read your mind, she spoke up. "he looks adorable. and no, i don't have any pets. i'd love to have a cat. i really like them, even though they don't seem to like me."

"you get used to it. i don't think rufus thinks i'm cool anyway" you replied. "you look cool though, i mean, you seem nice. you had the courage to come and talk to me" she said with admiration. you looked at her with adoration, wishing you could talk to dina right now. how did you develop a crush so quickly on someone you had just met? "did you see me talking to all the girls to see if they had the number 27?" you blushed, remembering the embarrassment you had experienced approaching everyone to check. "i did! you looked really cute. you even made me feel sorry for you, so i approached stealthily. it was all planned" she laughed, her comment making you laugh as well. your cheeks were still flushed, but this time not from embarrassment, but from the girl in front of you, unabashedly flirting. "i'm glad you're my partner. i think we'll have a fun afternoon." "so be it," eillie opened her hand for a high-five, and you gladly obliged.

"can i ask you a question?" ellie inquired. "anything." "this may sound strange, but what's your name?" you paled, realizing that you had spent all that time with her without even telling her your name. you had held her hand and lent her your music, but you didn't even have the decency to introduce yourself. you stuttered for a few seconds before telling her your name and apologizing for forgetting to do so earlier. "y/n," ellie said your name aloud, as if testing it on her lips. "that's a beautiful name for a beautiful girl." all the color that had disappeared from your face came rushing back in an even stronger blush. "stop it! you're turning me into a tomato if you keep making me blush." "you look really pretty like that, that's why i do it." finally, you rested your elbows on your lap and hid your face in your hands. a cute and kind girl saying all those things to you? you were truly weak. you heard ellie laugh behind you and looked at her, pretending to be annoyed. "come on, lift your head, love. we have a long day ahead." 'it's obvious,' you thought as you observed her face full of freckles. once you composed yourself, you put your headphone back on and finally gathered the courage to rest your head on ellie's shoulder to sleep. you felt a smile forming on her face, and after a few seconds, she rested her head on yours and placed her hand back on your knee

you woke up to the sound of excessively loud chatter. you opened your eyes, adjusting to the light, and realized where your head was. you slowly lifted your head and saw ellie's profile, still in the same position as when you fell asleep, but this time looking towards the bus exit, possibly waiting for everyone to fully disembark. before speaking to her, you noticed a somewhat red mark and distinct lines on the lower part of her cheek. you pondered for a few seconds what it could be and smiled when you realized it was the mark left by your hair when she rested her head on yours. you assumed that she had also fallen asleep in the same position you remembered, and your heart filled with joy at how quickly she had become comfortable with you.

before ellie realized that you had been staring at her profile, you touched her shoulder and with a smile asked if it was okay to get off now. she nodded and helped you pick up your earphones that had fallen to the floor during the journey. she grabbed her backpack and put it on her shoulder, starting to walk towards the bus door. you followed her while closing your backpack, and when you reached the stairs to descend, you noticed that slowly all the students were gathering around the teachers who were starting to organize themselves to give instructions. you looked back at the stairs and saw ellie standing on the grass, extending a hand to help you down. you took her hand and took the opportunity to get a better look at her forearm tattoo. though it seemed unfinished, it was undeniably beautiful. you wondered if she had drawn the design herself and decided to ask her later. as you approached the teachers, you thought ellie would let go of your hand, but she didn't. she continued to hold it gently as she guided you to a closer spot near the teachers to listen to the instructions.

once again, you got lost in your partner's appearance and missed the explanation. she seemed to realize the reason when you asked her to repeat what your teachers had said, and she blushed slightly. "they said there are more than 10 symbols carved into various trees in the area, and they want us to implement technology or something like that. so, when we move on to the next stage, we need to show them the photos we've taken of the symbols on the trees. we should have at least three to complete this part." as ellie narrated, you nodded slowly, trying not to get lost in her beautiful green eyes again. "understood. anything else?" ellie nodded her head. "to make sure we don't use the same photos as our classmates, we need to make it clear that the photo is ours. like having ourselves in the photo or using our hand to show the assigned number." you nodded again, and this time it was your turn to hold her hand and lead her to the starting point of the race.

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