#THESE ARE JUST MY OPINIONS!!!!! and again I do like some of these

[ktgoodmorning]

"I'm scared"

Alexia Putellas x reader

Part 3 of that awkward smile but also can stand on it's own in my opinion, just kinda in that same universe.

You get injured during the chelsea match and Alexia steps up to comfort you

I Part 1 I Part 2 I

Masterlist

To say you were stressed about the upcoming Chelsea match would have been an understatement. Champions league matches always held more weight to them so you’d always be the first to put an immense amount of pressure on yourself. You were similar to Alexia in that way, always expecting the absolute best from yourself and willing to push yourself to any length necessary to get there, no matter what it took. 

But you were ready. That’s what everyone told you. Barça was incredible and you all knew exactly what you needed to do. You had trained for this and knew how to handle the pressure. 

You did all your pre game rituals, even getting a quick kiss on the forehead from Alexia once the others had left the locker room. They still had no idea the two of you had gotten back together and at the moment you wanted to keep it that way, knowing Mapi would be fiercely protective over both of you, scared to see her best friends hurt each other once again. 

Before you knew it, you were lined up in the tunnel, ready to take the pitch. Mapi was working her way through everyone, giving plenty of pep talks and words of wisdom asshe did so, being sure to make a long stop in front of you.

You were a center back, working hard to fill her shoes in her absence and trying your absolute best. Everyone knew it was a difficult job but you continued to improve and put in the extra hours to make sure you could make her proud. She was always sure to give you some extra advice and hype you up to make sure you knew that she believed in you. You had known Mapi for most of your life and as much as you’d never admit it, her faith in you worked wonders for your confidence and skills on the field. Especially with you still settling in at Barcelona, knowing that she trusted you in her absence made you step up to the plate in a way you hadn’t been able to before. 

As she approached you, Mapi took both your hands in hers, looking at you with a rare sense of seriousness that she often didn’t show. “You’re ready for this, amiga. Just do what you do best, quit thinking about anything else, just go play and be the footballer that you are.” She gave you a short nod which you returned to her before pulling her in for a short hug. Soon afterwards, you were being led onto the pitch for the game to begin. 

As the game got started, you settled into a pace that was much faster than most of the games you were used to. There was much more back and forth, more speed, and more physicality than you normally played with, both teams hungry for a win which only heightened the intensity further.

It was around the 60th minute when a Chelsea player sent a long ball down the field in your direction, hoping to reach Mayra Ramirez. You, being the closest to her, took off running towards her the second the ball started your way, pushing yourself to catch up with her and using your speed to your advantage. You were able to reach the ball just as it was about to arrive at its intended target, immediately jumping up in an attempt to head it away before Mayra could take control of it. 

However just as your feet left the ground, you felt a mind-numbing crack to your temple, clearly coming into contact with something that wasn’t the ball, before immediately collapsing onto the pitch. What you didn’t realize when you tried to take the header, was how close you were to the opposing player who, like you, was jumping up in hopes of getting control over the ball, leading to her head smashing into the side of yours. 

You had little to no awareness of the things going on around you as you layed there, curled in a ball, groaning in pain, wishing you didn’t exist. Pain was shooting through your skull with an intensity that made it hard to even pinpoint its origin. All you knew was that it hurt. 

Everything hurt. The sunlight in your eyes hurt, making you keep them squeezed shut as tightly as possible. Squeezing your eyes shut caused pain too, but not quite as bad as if you had opened them. You didn’t even have the energy or mental capacity to fully react to the amount of pain you were feeling at that moment, just bringing your hands up to your face as if they would somehow shield you from the pain you were feeling, exhausted, tears unknowingly running down your face. 

 Game play stopped almost immediately as you and Mayra had both hit the ground hard, her seeming to be in better shape than you currently were. The second she saw your heads make contact, Alexia felt like her whole world came to a screeching halt. It did. You were her world. You had slowly become ingrained in everything she did as over the last couple months you had been together and now here you were, curled up motionless on the grass. 

She didn’t even realize it but the blonde had begun sprinting towards you the second you went down, not even waiting for the whistle or giving it a second thought. It was automatic for her, the need to protect you outweighing everything else. 

Normally if a teammate went down, Alexia would be the one to argue with the referee about whatever had happened and allow someone else to go comfort the injured player. It’s not like the captain had a reputation for being warm and fuzzy and good with handling people’s emotions. She’d leave that to the others so she could be the stone faced captain she preferred being. But not with you. You were different. 

Alexia was by your side in an instant, suddenly no longer caring who knew about your relationship. Keeping things a secret wasn’t even a thought that crossed her mind as she slid to her knees next to you, instantly grabbing your hand in an attempt to provide you some comfort until the medical staff could reach you. Her hands shook as she brushed some hair off your face and wiped your tears, genuinely terrified of what was going on with you. The blank stare in your eyes, paired with your silence and lack of reaction was eerie to say the least. 

“You’ll be okay, amor, I’ve got you. The physios are almost here.” It’s like time was moving in slow motion, feeling like they were taking forever even though they were just as prompt as they always were. Your girlfriend’s words were almost more for herself than they were for you. The way you still were yet to react, didn’t call for words of comfort, however she needed to say it out loud, just to hear it for herself. You would be okay. You had to be. She was thinking so many things at once that she couldn’t fully process it all, just fully in survival mode on your behalf. 

When the physios reached your side, Alexia moved over to give them some space, still refusing to let go of your hand as they did so. She didn’t notice, but plenty of teammates had given her some weird looks, confused by her sudden concern over you and the way she was expressing it so openly. The look of fear in her eyes was new to everyone, even those she had known her entire life. Nobody had seen the captain looking so unsure of things when she was on the football pitch, normally that was the place where she came across as the most confident no matter what was going on. 

The physios did their job, asking you a million questions and trying to examine you as best they could in your current state. Alexia could hardly pay attention to anything they said, far too caught up in her thoughts about what could be going on with you. 

You were hardly answering any of the questions, just mumbling soft responses here and there, struggling to focus on their words. Because of your continued lack of coherency, the medical staff decided to stretcher you off- something that didn’t help Alexia’s mental state, doing her best to hide the tears that were welling up in her own eyes. She was still yet to let go of your hand, squeezing it tightly as if her hold on your hand alone could keep you safe as she helplessly watched the medical staff load you onto the stretcher.

The blonde stayed by your side as the staff wheeled you off, only stopping when they reached the sideline where Mapi had come down from the stands to wait for you to take Alexia’s place by your side. Alexia knew that she wouldn’t be allowed to come off yet. It was the Champion’s League and everyone knew there wasn’t the wiggle room to mess with the subs more than absolutely necessary. As much as it killed her to see you go without her, she knew she didn’t have another option and at the very least, she was grateful to know Mapi would be by your side the whole time. 

When they paused at the sidelines with you, Alexia took the opportunity to give your hand a tight squeeze before bringing it to her lips to leave a kiss on the back of it. “You’ll be okay amor, I’ll see you as soon as this is over. I love you, okay?” She didn’t expect a response given your current state but appreciated the weak attempt at returning a squeeze of the hand to her. Mapi froze for a second, giving her a look of confusion over what she had just seen from her best friend before giving the captain a reassuring pat on the shoulder and taking Alexia’s spot by your side. 

Everything after that was a blur for you, only knowing that the medical staff were busy performing tests on you, doing what they could to make sure you were okay. You became more and more aware of your surroundings as they did so, feeling the shock of the incident slowly starting to wear off. They decided you wouldn’t need to go to the hospital and that it appeared to be a grade two concussion, paired with the sudden shock of the injury. While you’d still spend longer than you’d like on the sidelines, it was a much better outcome than anyone was expecting given the state you had been in when it happened. 

Once the physios had finished their tests, they gave you some medication for the pain and let you doze off on one of the treatment tables, snuggled into Mapi’s side while the game ended. The second the final whistle blew, Alexia was sprinting off the pitch with the sole intention of finding you, ignoring any other responsibilities that might have been awaiting her. 

She burst through the door to the training room, expecting to be told that they took you to the hospital, stopping herself only when she saw you sleeping peacefully against Mapi. For the first time since you went down, the blonde was able to take a deep breath and calm down now that she had seen you looking relatively okay. 

“Ssshhh, Ale, she’s asleep. But she’s okay. Grade two concussion, and plenty of shock but she’ll be okay, that’s all it is.” 

“Gracias a Dios,” Alexia’s shoulders visibility relaxed as she let out a heavy sigh, having assumed the absolute worst for the last half hour. 

“What’s going on between you two? Are you back together or something? Cause I really don’t think-” 

“Si, Mapi,” The blonde rolled her eyes at Mapi’s reaction, knowing it was exactly what had prevented you from telling her earlier. “I know you’re worried about her but I promise it’s different this time. We’re both in a completely different place now, and we’ve talked about it a lot, and it’s going amazing, Mapi. I promise you. I will not do anything to hurt her.” 

“You better not, juro por Dios. I’m so serious, Alexia, if you do anything-”

“I won’t! I swear, Mapi. I could never do that to her again. It kills me that I even did it the first time. This time is completely different, I love her more than I’ve ever loved anyone before.” 

The defender only responded with a very pointed look, clearly not too pleased with the current situation. It didn’t help matters that you were still passed out against her, unable to help your girlfriend reassure her that things were going well between you. 

Not wanting to discuss it any further, Mapi slid out from underneath you, carefully allowing Alexia to slide into her place. It was clear you knew who it was, snuggling into her further and grabbing the top of her kit tightly to make sure she couldn’t leave. It didn’t matter to you that she was drenched in sweat and smelling rough, you just needed her close to you, even if you weren’t awake enough to consciously decide that. 

Alexia took your movement as an opportunity to wake you up, gently rubbing your shoulder, and speaking softly as she did so. “Hola, amor. I think we should get you home so you can keep sleeping there, get you more comfortable. Si? You’ll stay at mine so I can make sure you’re okay.”

You nodded weakly, mumbling a somewhat incoherent agreement. The idea of going home with her sounded great but the idea of moving sounded like the worst thing you could imagine at the moment. 

She smiled softly at your reaction, knowing that there were few things you loved more than cuddling and that she knew she would have a hard time getting you to agree to get up right now. “You’re so cute when you’re tired and barely making sense, amor. I’ll carry you if you want.” 

She sat up further in an attempt to encourage you to join her, hoping to get a better idea of how you were feeling, but wasn’t expecting to see tears pooling in your eyes as soon as she did so. “Ale, I feel horrible.” Your voice was wobbly as you tried to hold in your emotions, suddenly overcome with pain in your head once again. 

“I know sweetheart, I know. I’ve got you though, okay? I’ve just gotta get you home and then I’ll take good care of you and let you rest more. Is that alright?” 

You nodded, looking and feeling more broken than you ever had before. “Could I please just hug you, first? Then we can go.” 

Your words made her melt, suddenly aware of how much you needed her support right now, allowing you to collapse into her arms. “Shh, I’ve got you. It’ll be okay, I promise. You’ll be alright, mi amor, you’ll be alright.” She rocked you gently in a way that almost seemed to dull the pain you were feeling. This moment in her arms was the best you had felt since you hit the ground, and it did more than you ever could’ve guessed. Something about being in her arms seemed to work better than any prescription ever could.

When you pulled away from her, she gently wiped away your tears, once again pushing your hair back away from your face. “I’ll see if Mapi can grab our stuff and then we’ll meet her at the car okay? Do you want a sweatshirt or anything?” You were both in your kits still and Alexia knew you enough to know that you always ran cold and preferred being snuggled up in a big sweatshirt. Your only response  was a pouty face, sticking your bottom lip out at her with your best puppy dog eyes as she gave you a smile and shake of her head in return. Of course Alexia knew exactly what you were implying with that face. It was your subtle (or not so subtle) way of requesting a sweatshirt of hers instead of your own. “I’ll get you a sweatshirt and let Mapi know that we’re ready to leave. Then I’ll come get you. Okay?” You nodded at her which she acknowledged with a quick peck on the lips before leaving the room, giving you the opportunity to lay down for a few more minutes while you waited. 

You must have slightly dozed off by the time Alexia returned to you because you awoke to the sound of the door opening once again. “Feeling any better?” 

You squinted slightly, trying to let your head adjust to the lights in the room. “Ale, you were gone for like five minutes, why would I feel any different?” The words carried more attitude than you intended, too far distracted by the pounding in your skull, but your girlfriend seemed to be unphased, just shrugging off your words before helping pull her sweatshirt on over your head. 

Once you seemed to be more comfortable, she turned so her back was facing you, bending down slightly so you could climb on, piggy-back style. “Hop on, I’ll carry you to the car, amor.” So you did just that, climbing on and then burying your face into the side of her neck, partially to block out some of the light, partially because you just wanted to be as close as possible. 

When you reached her car, she gently set you down on the passenger seat, making sure you were comfortable and buckled before leaving a kiss on the top of your head to go to the driver’s side. As soon as she sat down, she reached to hold your hand, giving it yet another reassuring squeeze. Although the silence between you provided some relief from the pounding in your head, It also sent you into a spiral of anxiety thinking about what this concussion might mean for you. 

Alexia quickly noticed your change in demeanor as she drove and how you went from mostly asleep in a comfortable silence to staring into space, clearly filled with tension. The fact that you were suddenly more awake was her biggest red flag given that you had been in and out the entire time she’d seen you. The panicked Alexia that had appeared when you first went down seemed to be back and filled with concern over you once again. “Hey, are you okay? Is something worse with your head, amor? What’s wrong? Do you want me to pull over? I can pull over if you want?” 

“I don’t know, I’m just scared I guess.” You gave her a grim shrug that did little to calm her nerves, still looking at you expectantly, trying to figure out how to help. 

“Scared of what? You’ll be okay, they said most of your symptoms should be getting better already in a few days.”

“Not about that, Ale.”

“Then what…” the blonde trailed off, clearly confused as to what you were saying. 

When she seemed to not be catching on, you let out a sigh, dreading saying the words that had come to mind. “It’s just that last time we dated, injuries are part of what tore us apart. We couldn’t deal with the stress of them. I’m just scared that that might happen again.” You paused, trying to put your thoughts into words, “I can’t lose you again, Alexia. So I don’t know if I should stay with you and I don’t know if we should do this, because I don’t think I can handle that again.” Your voice cracked as you went silent once again, both of you simmering in what was just said. By the time you finished speaking she had pulled into the driveway so she could now turn to face you, cradling the side of your head in her hand. The warmth of her large hand provided you comfort as you leaned into her touch, letting her support your head even more.

“Amor. I know it’s scary, I do. But I never plan on letting you go. Not ever. I promised Mapi that while you were passed out earlier and I’ll promise you that. We talked about this, we were both different people then. We are both more mature, stronger, kinder, smarter, and better. This is not the same.” You finally looked up to meet her eyes for the first time that night. “And I think you know that, amor. I love you, so, so, so, much. It’s okay to be scared, I’ll carry enough faith in us for the two of us. But at the end of the day, I’m not going anywhere. I promise. There’s a reason we got back together, si?” 

It was rare that you saw Alexia get so sentimental and emotional but something about you seemed to bring out that side of her. “Gracias, Ale,” she leaned forward to give you a gentle kiss. “I don’t know what I would do without you. Seriously.” She interrupted you with more kisses in an attempt to pull your mind away from your anxieties and back to the present. 

When she pulled away, Alexia was relieved by the small smile that had appeared on your face, the first she’d seen since before the game today. “Now let’s go inside, we can take a bath and get you some comfier clothes, and get you all snuggled up to go to bed. I’ll hold you as much as you want, I won’t go anywhere.” 

You gave her a small nod, before slowly leaving the car and following her inside, ready for a night with Alexia all to yourself and ready to take care of you. Your head still hurt, but if there was one thing that could make it feel better, you knew it would be your girlfriend and the hardcore pain meds you’d been given.

might end up doing one more for this but we'll see :)

Requests are always open

Masterlist

#barcelona femeni #woso imagines #barca femeni #fcb femini #woso one shot #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #espwnt #espwnt x reader #alexia x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas imagine #futfem #wosoreadingalexia #wosoreading24/7

[dyaz-stories]

don't get cut on my edges || gojo satoru x reader

synopsis: Gojo is easily bored, you're the latest enigma that's caught his interest. He sets off in trying to figure you out. Lucky for him, you're coming on the week-end trip Shoko's planned for the week-end.

“Was I off script?”

You look up at him.

“You’re always off script.”

word count: 5.4k

genre: college!AU, fluff, slice of life

cw: unresolved sexual and romantic tension, reader has anxiety and is socially awkward, she/her is used for the reader, a little suggestive, overall very sweet and fluffy

a/n: this was fun to write! any feedback is appreciated, and i hope you enjoy my writing here :)

soundtrack

Gojo knows that people talk, knows that they talk shit, knows that there isn’t a soul on campus that doesn’t have an opinion on him. He can tell that eyes follow him around when he walks into a room, that his presence is enough to shift the atmosphere at a gathering, that some people roll their eyes at him while others try their best to catch his attention. It’s a lot to take in, for just one person.

Fortunately, he’s proved to be incredibly gifted in the art of not giving a fuck.

Then again, he’s incredibly gifted in most areas of life. Truth be told, he thinks people aren’t giving him enough credit for that. Sure, they tend to know that he’s a physics major, but that’s just tangential to what they know about the rest of him. He’s not just kinda good at physics, not some dude that goes to college mostly for the parties and then get a meaningless job at daddy’s company, no, he’s the fucking best, and he works fucking hard to be able to claim that title.

But that doesn’t really fit in with the rest of him, and at the end of the day, who cares? He certainly doesn’t.

With all that, it’s not statistically unlikely for him to catch people talking about him.

Well, he’d have to conduct a detailed study to calculate the exact odds, but with how much alcohol is in his blood at this very moment, it makes sense to him that it would happen.

Still, for people to be talking about him at a party he is at, in front of an open window, you’d think they would have some sense of shame. Not that he has any room to talk, because shame is not part of his vocabulary, but like. Come on.

“Gojo really can’t take not being in the spotlight for more than ten seconds, huh?”

That voice, he’s quick to identify, even if he can’t see her face from where’s he’s standing under the porch, belongs to Mei Mei. Aw. Bummer. They’d spent quite a lot of time around each other, have friends in common, slept— Wait, have they slept together? He can’t say for sure anymore. It seems to have slipped from his mind. Oops. Maybe that’s why he’s getting that treatment. Maybe he deserves it.

There’s a scoff, and really, the acoustic of this place are impressive. It feels like he’s straight in the room with those people.

“What else do you expect from someone who’s always had everything served to him on a silver platter?”

And that would be Noritoshi Kamo. Man. That was one of the few kids in the families his parents insisted on frequenting. They used to be sat next to each other at the kiddie table while the adults talked about the important stuff. They never had much in common — not then, not now. And, after all, maybe Noritoshi has a point, after all. His mother wasn’t a mistress, wasn’t turned into an outcast, and he’s never had to pretend he didn’t hear the loud whispers that tarnished her name. Yeah. Sounds like these two aren’t saying anything new after all. Not that he’s gonna change, y’know, but he already knows who he is, and he is all that.

“That seems like a very mean thing to say about a friend,” a quiet voice comments.

The world freezes.

A silhouette appears to go along with the voice, then a blurry face, then the picture becomes clearer. A figure sitting next to Shoko, giving him sweet, polite smiles when he approaches. Not chatty, kinda shy, pretty cute. Would get quiet when he was near, though, so he hadn’t paid a ton of attention. He’s used to giving it to people who asked for it, who wanted it.

You’d never asked.

But you’re… not wrong. He’s not sure why he hadn’t picked up on it himself. It is a mean thing to say.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Mei Mei protests, “I love Gojo, but you know I’m right about this.”

“Yeah, and I’ve known him my whole life,” Kamo adds. “It’s just a fact, we’re not talking shit.”

There’s a silence. Gojo’s invested now.

“I don’t know him that well,” you say. “Like I said. It’s just a mean thing to say about someone you hang out with every day.”

“Come on, don’t act like—”

“I think I’m going to go, actually,” you say. “This feels super shitty.”

“What the fuck was that?” Mei Mei laughs, just a second later — presumably after you’ve left the room.

“She wants to fuck him, I guess,” Kamo says.

Well, you’re making one hell of a headway then, because he’d do you so hard after that.

When he walks back in, you’re chatting with Shoko. You give him your usual, close-lipped smile, don’t quite make eye-contact. If you’re trying to get in his pants, you have a very original way of getting it done.

“Who was your friend again?” he asks Shoko, later that night. She answers without looking up from her phone.

“She doesn’t talk much when there are new people around,” she warns him. “Leave her alone.”

“When have I ever bothered anyone—”

She reaches to smack the back of his head, misses and gets the nape of his neck — that’s the downside about being so tall, there’s just a lot of him to hit.

“Don’t make her uncomfortable. That’s all I’m asking.”

He wasn’t planning on that. He’s just— curious. Intrigued.

It’s unlikely to last, though. He’s been known to get bored easily.

You’re already in the car when he gets in. Well, okay, when he gets shoved inside by Todo, despite his protests that his legs are too long for the backseat. You’ve squeezed yourself in the middle seat, with Shoko on one side, and him on the other now. There’s a bag of snacks in your lap, yet you still try to shift yourself to give him a little more room. It doesn’t help at all, but in your defense, the only thing that could help would be to buy a new car.

“Is everyone ready?” Suguru asks as he adjusts the rearview mirror.

“Sure,” Shoko says.

“Let’s go!” Todo shouts.

“No,” Gojo whines.

“Yeah,” you say, completely drowned out under the rest.

“Good,” Suguru hums as he starts the engine.

Gojo pouts, but he doesn’t insist. Well, he doesn’t make any more of a scene than he already has. Truth be told, he could have taken Todo — dude might be all brute force, but Gojo has brains and brawns, thank you very much.

But he’s curious, still, and he hasn’t been given enough information to quite satiate his curiosity. Everything he’s gathered about you says that you mind your business and keep to your corner.

So why did you say that to Mei Mei and Kamo? It makes no sense, but Gojo’s never met an equation he couldn’t solve.

That’s an overstatement. Obviously there are equations he can’t solve. Yet. He’s sure he’d figure it out eventually. Like he’ll figure you out. See? That metaphor does make sense.

Suguru’s music is playing in the car. The sun is still low in the sky, the day is quickly getting warmer, and the phone says that they’ll be at the beach in two hours.

Satoru closes his eyes. Fun fact about him? He can fall asleep anywhere he wants to.

He wakes up with his face smooshed against the window, a hand tapping his shoulder carefully.

“We’re here,” you say, giving him a smile and then shuffling to leave the car from the other side.

Todo’s already running towards the beach, while Suguru and Shoko are getting the bags out of the trunk. Somehow, Shoko manages to sling a bag over his shoulder, but he takes off before she can stuff the cool box containing all the drinks in his arms.

He then lies to Todo to get him back to the car, so that he can carry the damn thing. Shoko better thank him later for that.

He catches up with you, and he sees your eyes widen a little when he approaches, as you visibly search for something to say. He can’t resist the temptation to shoot you a grin. There’s a light breeze in the air, but he won’t be fooled that easily — with his skin, he’s going to need an insane amount of sunscreen, if he wants to survive the day. Which makes him think, actually—

“Wanna help me apply sunscreen?” he asks.

“Huh?” you say.

He leans towards you, looks into your eyes from over his sunglasses. You appear to be fully frozen in place, only swallowing once as he gets closer. His grin gets wider as he takes in all of you, and he’s once more fascinated by the idea that you had been able to say something to Mei Mei and Kamo but you can barely face him.

His gaze drops to your parted lips.

Then the bottle of sunscreen smashes against his cheek with impressive precision.

“Todo can help you put that on!” Shoko offers as Suguru starts setting up a parasol. “Right, Todo?”

“Of course I will, my brother,” Todo say as he appears, but by then, Satoru has already started running for his life.

“Just kick him in the balls if he pulls something like that again,” Shoko says.

“Oh, no, it’s fine,” you reply, shaking your head in mild horror. “I just— I don’t— know— how to react sometimes. But he doesn’t bother me.”

That statement has her raising an eyebrow at you, filled with doubt, but she doesn’t insist.

“Play nice,” she does warn Satoru once more, later on. “Don’t push it too much.”

“Aw, Shoko, are you saying you wouldn’t approve of me?”

“Do whatever you want to,” she replies, rolling her eyes, “but give her more space. She’s not used to you being… you.”

Satoru rests his chin on his knee. He’s taking refuge under the parasol for now, and you’re already in the waves with Todo and Suguru. You seem comfortable with Todo, laughing at something he said, less so with Suguru. It all looks like a lot of work, all to satiate his curiosity. He’s all about committing to the bit but— he doesn’t know about that one.

This, too, all this thinking and questioning, is a lot of work, though, so he ends up shrugging it off.

“Are we getting in or what?”

“Absolutely not. No— Gojo— Don’t you fucking dare— Gojo!”

Shoko’s full-on shrieking by the time he throws her in the water. You burst out laughing. She comes out screaming for revenge, and Gojo starts scampering around to try and avoid her.

The sun is high in the sky, there’s a light breeze.

The time is good.

“Satoru!” Suguru calls when the watch on his wrist starts beeping, “it’s been two hours!”

It takes a second for the information to reach his brain, but the second he understands it, Gojo’s sprinting back towards the parasol at full speed. You look up, surprised, from the towel on which you’re lying with a book. Shoko doesn’t even bother with lifting an eyelid to see what’s going on.

“You okay?” you ask.

Ah, so she does speak.

“Yeah,” Gojo says, ruffling through a bag. “Just need to reapply some sunscreen. I’m not trying to look like a lobster.”

“Oh,” you say, “so, did you want me to help you with that?”

His fingers finally close around the bottle, and he stills to look at you. Shit. He’s curious again. Shoko’s words are swirling around in his mind, though, and he has no interest in forcing your hand.

“You didn’t look like you wanted to do that,” he says with uncharacteristic caution.

You roll your lips together, glance away from him, and your hand curls into a fist in the sand.

“No, it’s just— Um, I’m sorry about earlier. You— caught me off guard, I guess. I couldn’t figure out what to answer.”

“I usually just go with whatever appears through my head first,” he shrugs as he comes to crouch in front of you — you in the sun, him in the shade.

You laugh softly, but you avert your eyes, focusing on the sand as you trace patterns in it.

“Yeah, I think that’s the preferred method, but it— doesn’t— really work for me. So I have— I have a script, kind of, for interactions.”

“And I was off script?”

You glance back up at him.

“You’re always off script.”

For a moment, he just looks into your eyes, and you look back without any of that earlier nervousness. Then you shrink back into yourself, and the smile that so rarely leaves your lips reappears, like a shield that comes back up.

“Sorry. I know— I know how silly this sounds. I also wish I didn’t feel the need to do that, I just, um—”

“All good,” he replies with a shrug. “Sure. Help me with that.”

He throws you the bottle and you miss it, and he can feel you eyerolling at his back without needing to turn around, but when he shoots you a grin from over his shoulder, he can see how your breath catches in your throat.

Softly, your hand goes over his back, your touch gentle and cautious. It feels quite nice, actually, especially when your nails brush over his skin.

“It’s not too cold?” you ask.

“All good,” he repeats.

Shit. He’s invested again.

“Okay, we have the tickets, we have the water bottles, we have the hats, we have flat shoes, we have Gojo, we have the car keys—”

“I’m sorry, why was I just in the middle of a list of belongings?”

“We have cellphones and portable batteries… I think we’re good,” Shoko concludes, fully ignoring him.

“You don’t think we’re just a touch overprepared?” Suguru asks.

“You can never overprepare, my brother,” Todo says, grabbing his shoulder firmly. “If you want to triumph in the face of adversity, you need to know everything about the enemy.”

Suguru opens his mouth, closes it again. He knows how to pick his battles.

Gojo doesn’t.

“We’re going to a festival, not trying to breech the Pentagon,” he deadpans, and then, from the corner of his eye, he tries to see if you’re laughing. He delights in how you lower your head and try to keep it discreet.

“You never know what—”

“If I have to hear a second more of this nonsense, I swear to God I’ll kill someone here,” Shoko announces cheerfully. “Let’s move.”

Finally, after a good fifteen minutes by the door of the Airbnb you’ve all spent the night in, you start moving.

The good news is that you don’t have to get in the car, in the smothering heat, to get on the overcrowded streets packed full with the cars of the other attendees. The bad news is that you have to walk there, in the smothering heat, near the streets packed full with the cars of the other attendees. Suguru’s in charge of the map, which everyone seems happy with. Gojo had offered to do it, too, and there’s not a shred of doubt that he’d be able to read it competently, but Shoko had insisted the risk of him taking everyone to the wrong place ‘just because it would be funny’ was too high.

She’d been right but like, that was still rude.

The march in the heat and the waiting in line, while painful and unpleasant, as Gojo makes sure everyone around him is well aware of, go pretty smooth. Everything is planned and accounted for. There’s a game plan once they make it into the festival, too, because of course there is, but that’s when things start going south. First, Todo tries to go rogue when he spots someone wearing Takada merch. She’s not performing here, but he’s heard rumors that there would be a stand for her, and he lurches towards the woman. He’d get lost in the crowd immediately if not for Gojo’s lightning fast reflexes.

Unfortunately, soon enough it’s Gojo’s turn to get distracted. What can he say, there’s the smell of sugar in the air, and he needs to know where it’s coming from. Suguru’s the one to get him back on track, as they all head towards the main stage. Because that’s what Shoko’s grand plan leads to: sweet, sweet, close-up spots to watch the Sorcerers, headliners for the festival and also unarguably greatest band of all times, with minimum wait before their show.

There are a couple other close calls, but the group manages to get close enough to the stage. There are people here already, but they’re here for other artists mostly, and they’ll no doubt move quite a bit before the start of the real show. From where they are, even you and Shoko will be able to— Wait a minute.

“Huh,” Gojo say. “Hey, Shoko, do you happen to see (y/n) around?”

“If you can’t see her from up there, why would you think I— Fuck.”

“A fallen soldier,” Todo sighs somberly. “Sometimes, you have to make sacrifices for—"

“We should go get her,” Shoko interrupts him. She’s biting her lower lip, staring at her phone. She looks quite worried, Gojo notices as he stares at her.

“Why isn’t it enough to just text her?” Gojo asks. It’s not ideal, and it won’t be easy to find the group in the middle of this sea of people, but it’s not impossible.

“I just— I don’t know if she’ll want to deal with all that” she gestures at the crowd “alone. I’m afraid she’ll say she doesn’t mind and then she won’t have a good time.”

Gojo tilts his head. It wouldn’t cross his mind to say something he doesn’t mean. It’s an incredibly weird thought, actually. But Shoko’s better than him at, well, people, and she might have a point. He also doesn’t want you to have a bad time, after all. With one last glance at the stage, he nods at her.

“I’ll go get her.”

“Are you sure?” Suguru asks. “I can go, if you want me to. It’s your band.”

As if it isn’t his, too. But Gojo shrugs. His attention span is fleeting, and he’s got his sights on something else right now.

“Nah, don’t worry. I’ll make it back.”

“Thanks,” Shoko says sincerely.

He waves vaguely at her before making his way back through the crowd, earning his fair share of nasty glances. He still doesn’t care.

A few minutes later, he receives a text from Shoko with a screengrab where you say you’re getting something to eat. Sure enough, he has no trouble finding you waiting in line. You’re typing on your phone, not paying attention to your surroundings, and he’s grinning already. He lets himself half fall on you, arm wrapping around your body as he drops his chin onto your shoulder. You jump, glancing back bewildered, but you don’t stay tense long once you see it’s him.

Which makes him feel things, actually, but he’ll unpack that later.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, brow furrowing. “I thought you guys would be in front of the stage by now.”

“I came to rescue the princess, obviously,” he says, and you laugh. You laugh a lot when he talks, instead of rolling your eyes like people usually do.

Maybe you’re a bit too good of an audience.

“I don’t need rescuing, Gojo,” you answer, and it’s interesting how calm your voice is. “It’s packed too tight for me in here. I told Shoko but…” You shrug. “It’s not always easy to understand how it is. For me.”

“Yeah,” he says. “I don’t get it at all.”

Your shoulder’s pretty comfortable, though. And you haven’t tried to get him off of you yet.

“Do you want to order something, too?” you ask, pointing at the food stand. They sell waffles, and just the smell has his mouth watering. “Strawberries and whipped cream, right?”

Gojo pauses.

“How do you know that?”

“You’ve mentioned it. A few times, actually.”

He’s sure he has, but—

“You were listening to that?”

You blink at him. He realizes how close your face is, with his head on your shoulder.

“Of course I was. You were talking.”

“Shoko didn’t tell you? It’s like, rule number one of being around me, don’t listen to the stuff I say. There’s a lot of dumb shit in there.”

You tilt your head, looking kind of confused.

“I still want to hear what you’re saying.”

Something inside him feels warm all of a sudden. Very warm.

“Yeah,” he says, but his throat is tight. “Strawberries and whipped cream.”

When you step forward to they can take your order, he begrudgingly gets off your shoulder, which allows him to swipe his card before you can get to it.

“I had that,” you protest while he bites into the insane amount of whipped cream in his waffle — he asked for more until the guy behind the counter looked like he was going to murder him.

“I had it first,” he says, and then he sticks his tongue out at you. He anticipates your laugh this time, finds himself waiting on it. When it comes, it sounds just like he wanted it to.

For a while, the two of you sit on a fence. You hand him a water bottle, say that he needs to stay hydrated. With no one else around, you don’t seem to have such a hard time speaking. You’re so quiet when everyone’s there and, well, him and Todo take up a lot of space, when it comes to conversation. Neither Suguru nor Shoko struggle with making their voices heard either, and in the middle of all that, you tend to stay silent. Apparently, that doesn’t stop you from listening.

“Shouldn’t you be going back?” you ask, after a while.

Gojo tilts his head as he thinks about it.

“Nah, I’m good. Let’s find some place where you can enjoy the show.”

“You don’t have to—”

A grin, and then he’s jumping from the fence to come stand in front of you. Even like that, he doesn’t have to look up to meet your eyes.

“And how d’you plan on stopping me?”

Your eyes go wide. He can almost hear your heart racing, and he thinks he’s starting to get a little too high on that feeling. It’s just so easy, so fun, so delicious.

“Okay,” you squeak, averting your eyes and jumping down after him, clearly trying to hide your reaction. “Okay, I’m coming.”

When you start walking by his side, grabbing your hand is just too easy not to do it.

“Wouldn’t want you to run away again,” is what he says as he intertwines his fingers with yours. “Now you’re stuck with me.”

You still refuse to look at him, but there is no actual discomfort in your reaction, just what he thinks is uncertainty about how you’re supposed to behave now.

“Have I gone off script again?” he practically purrs.

You glance up, a flash of amusement on your face. Lots of fondness, too, and this time he’s the one who gets caught up in it.

“You haven’t been on script once today.”

“Good,” he says, managing to pass off the emotion that just choked him for a second there as impatience. “Someone’s got to keep you on your toes.”

“I’m always on my toes,” you mumble behind him, but you can’t explain to him what anxiety feels like, so you just let him drag you away. His fingers are long, his hand engulfs yours easily. You like the feeling of it more than you should.

Your eyes are on Gojo’s broad back as he pulls you through the crowd, which parts effortlessly for him. You’re enjoying this.

You don’t think it’s going to last.

Gojo doesn’t think about that though, just like he rarely thinks about tomorrows. What he’s thinking about, as he keeps far, far away from the stage, is how to find a place with enough air around for the two of you. It’s easy for him to get a good look at the stage, and he earns his fair share of pissed off glares — “Seriously, it should be illegal to come to an open-air stage when you’re that tall” — but it takes more work to get the perfect space for you. Finally, his eagle eyes figure out some place that’s just perfect, and he beelines for it with you in tow.

“There,” he says, pulling you in front of him and putting his head on top of yours, just to check that the line of sight is good enough.

Ha. He nailed it.

“Thanks,” you say. There’s surprise in your tone.

“Is this a good spot for you?” he checks, but really, he just wants to hear you praise him?

“It is, but— I thought you said you didn’t get it? My—” You gesture vaguely. “—struggle. With all that stuff.”

Oh right. You actually listen to what he says. He needs to keep that in mind for the future.

“Does it matter?” he asks with a shrug.

You stare. You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out, and then the crowd starts absolutely howling and you spin around to see the Sorcerersget on the stage. Whatever moment there was there, is forgotten right away. He sees you fish in your bag for your phone, then raise it over your head and tiptoe around, trying to get a good photo.

It’s cute, it’s adorable even, but it’s not very efficient.

“Do you want some help here?” he asks, leaning close to your ear so you can hear him over all the noise.

Your body shivers into him, and he files that away for later.

“Um, yeah,” you shout over the noise. “Here, could you—”

But he pays no attention to the way you offer him your cellphone, and instead he’s bending down, and ignoring your surprised protest as he pushes his head between your legs.

He bench presses a hell of a lot more than he looks like he does, for the record.

With a grunt, he manages to get you up on his shoulders, and some people behind him complain loudly, but whatever, they can wait for you to get the perfect picture. You struggle to stabilize yourself for a dangerous second, and then you stop moving around for a second. Your thighs are supple and warm under his hands and around his head.

One more thing to remember.

“I’m good, I’m good, get me down,” you say quickly, just as he’s storing the thought away.

You seem relieved when your feet get back on the ground, and Satoru lets his hands linger on your waist.

“Was it a nice pic?” he asks. He knows he’s all red in the face, but he’s grinning so wide it almost hurts, actually.

“Perfect,” you squeak. “Thank you. Again.”

Aw. He’s going to get used to that word real quick.

A familiar guitar riff comes from the stage, and you turn away from him once more, but his hands are still on your waist. He uses that to pull you against him and this time, you don’t hesitate to let yourself lean back against him as the two of you move in rhythm with the music.

The concert is a blur after that. There’s a lot of singing, a lot of screaming, basically no time to catch a breath, because the Sorcerers are fucking beasts that don’t let up, not even for a second. At some point, you tell him something, but he can’t really hear, so you crane your neck back and he lowers his head. Your lips brush against his neck, an accident really, but it sends such a jolt of electricity through him, he thinks he’ll go into full overdrive.

The only thing that stops him from chasing after your lips immediately after that is Shoko’s voice, going around in his mind. ‘Don’t push it.’ What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

You move away, and he still has no clue what you were saying. If after that, his hands hold your hips a little tighter, if he pulls you a little closer, he can’t be blamed. If, during one of the more sulfurous song of the show, as you’re swaying against him, humming along to the song, his lips find your neck, he doesn’t want to hear about it.

When he presses a kiss right by your jaw, you turn to look at him. You’re pretty. He’s always thought you were pretty.

Fuck Shoko, he thinks, and he’s ready to put his mouth on yours, to slide his tongue between your parted lips that have looked so inviting this entire week-end, when the riff of the band’s most popular song starts playing, and he loses you attention once more.

Cock-blocked by his favorite band. Fuck his life.

When the song ends, there’s movement in the crowd as the band gets off the stage and people start chanting for an encore. In Shoko’s fool proof, perfect plan, this is when you’re supposed to start leaving. Gojo doesn’t want to — how is he supposed to do anything about how much he wants his mouth on you once you’re back with the other — but this time you grab his hand and pull him away from the stage and he has even less of a clue of what he’s supposed to do about that.

You get to the meeting point before Shoko, Todo and Suguru, which makes sense, considering you were much further from the stage than them. It’s a specific pole that Shoko had pointed to as you were first getting in, and the urge to push you against it and to taste your lips is strong. Gojo isn’t typically one to ignore that kind of feeling. He just goes for it, doesn’t let his brain get in the way too much. He’s not sure what it is with you and your doe eyes and your sweet smile that makes him act different.

Whatever it is, it makes him ask “Did you have a good time?” instead of kissing you senseless behind the pole while watching to make sure Shoko doesn’t catch him in the act.

“It was amazing,” you say. “I don’t think— I don’t think I’d have gotten that close without you.”

“Did I force your hand?” he asks, frowning.

“No, no, that was great, actually.” And there it comes, his favorite words, and then he’ll kiss you. “Thank—”

“There you guys are!”

You have got to be kidding him. The Gods of timing are so set against him, he must have done something to piss them off badly in another life.

“Okay, we should start heading towards the exit,” Shoko announces.

“Nah, we ‘re staying until the end,” Gojo says, burying his hands, balled into fists, in his pockets. He’s being needlessly belligerent, but whatever, she deserves it, whether she knows it or not.

“Don’t be a dick,” she glares.

He smiles at her. And he doesn’t budge.

“We’ll run,” you say, stepping in. “I’m sure we can still beat the crowd if we run.”

She narrows her eyes at you, then at Gojo.

“You’re a bad influence, you know that?”

So many delicious thoughts coming to him, and he can’t do anything about it. Damn it all.

Of course, it ends with the five of you sprinting on the lawn and all the way back to the house. Of course, he doesn’t catch five seconds with you after that. Of course, your face is on his mind the whole night.

Of course, because it’s just his luck, isn’t it, in the morning, Shoko tells him you had to catch a flight early in the morning.

“I told you, don’t you remember? She’s going back to her family for the summer.”

Of course, he doesn’t.

Ah, whatever. It bothers him for a minute, but then the day continues unfolding, and the sun’s warm, it’s the peak of summer, and he only really knew you for a couple of days. He’ll see how he feels about it when college starts up again in the fall. He’s not known for sticking with things, anyway. He’ll probably forget; you probably won’t capture him again like you did; it was probably a fluke.

That, or these will become famous last words.

sequel

thank you so much for reading! i had a ton of fun writing gojo's pov and i hope you enjoyed it too, even if i'm still finding his voice :) please reblog or comment if you've enjoyed this, i'd love to hear from you! getting readers' feedback on my writing is what keeps me motivated to write so if you'd like to read more from me, that's the way to do it!

tagging the people who expressed interest in this: @elidebrey @xstom @chosospookiebear @xmysticredx

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #jjk x you #my writing #gojo imagine #jjk imagine #jjk x y/n

[evermoredeluxe]

a really interesting theme i find in taylor’s work is that of being a fool or fooling someone else. love is looked at from this lens of a thing that you have to tricked into. which is really juxtaposed by her belief of “it is fate.” i think it somewhat comes from how openly and hugely she loves vs her view of herself as something that brings disaster. and also some pretty formative experiences when she was a young girl going into adulthood and how she felt used and unworthy and small. hence, all the trickery to make someone love her and trying to be in control, whether she’s the one starting it or ending it.

in cowboy like me, she talks about how she’s conned all these men, and they’ve all fallen for her. she takes what she wants from then and then she bolts. then in hits different, she sings “i use to switch out these kens, i’d just ghost // rip the bandaid off and skip town like an asshole outlaw” she meets a boy, falls in love, and when they break up, she moves on quickly and goes to another one to not feel distraught, and when this new boy makes her fake promises, she does the same thing to him and moves on with someone else. she’s in control.

and then “i think there’s been a glitch,” and with joe, she thought it was gonna be something casual and they tried that but it turned out to be one of those things that supposed to last. her con finally works. after all these tries, she’s finally masterminded her forever, and she doesn’t even feel bad because he knew. but then, she realizes that she failed yet again, it didn’t work. she didn’t con her way into a sweet forever, but rather forever conned her. fate gave her something, she tried to control it, but she failed.

she tries again. she’s been talking with this boy from her past again, and she thinks that this time, bolting will work and she will find her happy ending. what she though was fate, meant to be, all the pain of her long term relationship and her leaving was supposed to meant something, but turns out that this time the script flips, and he was the conman and he was selling her a get-love-quick scheme (loml). and she doesn’t even get to bolt! he’s the one who leaves her behind (“i’ll never leave, never mind” - loml), and she can’t even complain.

all’s not well because it doesn’t end well because she didn’t end up with anybody. instead of trying herself again, she’s just begging someone to change the prophecy. and the alchemy still implies something not in her hands being a huge factor, and who are they to fight it? they have to abide by it. and ofc she equates love to religion and sees fate as a belief system. she wants it to work out, and it hits her hard whenever it doesn’t. i’ve been thinking about this since the album release and seeing some other posts, and my unpopular opinion is that i think it’s still something she believes in despite *gestures broadly* but after last year, she doesn’t wanna control it anymore. no fooling, she doesn’t wanna mastermind and do all the work, she just want it to be easy and she wants it to be simply good to her.

#the tortured poets department #ttpd #taylor swift #arshia takes #arshia talks

[crippled-peeper]

I really used to love your blog, but you are being incredibly hostile to people who want to learn and you are assuming people mean to be malicious. As a disabled person, I totally get it. In a sense, pretty much anything that isn't a specifically disabled space (and even sometimes those as well) ARE hostile to disabled people and create tons of barriers that make it difficult just to survive and exist. I understand your frustration, I understand that it is something you desperately need to express. But at some point, it becomes better for you to let the opinions of others go or to try and shift your mindset that not everyone is out to attack you. By all means, block whoever you want to block, express yourself however you want to express yourself. But as a fellow disabled person, I no longer can relate to or find comfort in your posts. Most of which as of lately are FILLED with hostility and are incredibly defensive (which again, I TOTALLY understand.) I only send this ask to wish the best for you. I hope that you can find some place that feels safe, some place and people who accommodate and take care of you. I hope that you can believe in a future where people truly want to help and learn. And I hope that the hate in your heart does not continue to grow. Hating the world does not keep you safe from it. You do not need to bring hostility to the world, the way it seems to do for you. I wish for you to feel safe enough to have an open heart and find happiness as a disabled person.

Hey. I just want you to know that I don’t care like not even slightly. Please unfollow me, in fact block me. I have no patience for this manipulative bullshit.

I’m going to die some day (probably sooner rather than later) and I don’t exist to suck your toes and jack you off while you constantly question my humanity and my right to have the most basic human comforts

Maybe you should work on why you see other disabled human beings (who have feelings, btw!) as living Wikipedia pages who should calmly and joyously educate you while you say stupid shit to them, repeatedly, and without a single care about how it makes them feel.

I know you thought it would be, but my self worth is not located in the approval of random people who don’t even have the balls to come off anon and talk to me.

Farewell, bucko.

#ableism

[viennakarma]

hi! oh my gosh i loved wreck my plans, fernando is just chef’s kiss because that man was sooo patient he deserved that happy ending

even if you don’t add anymore parts to that story, i just wanted to ask how you think it would be between reader and nando in the future. and if luna gets a new sibling ☺️

Hi there! Thank you so much, hun.

So, a few head canons about the life after, in wreck my plans:

- You went back to social media after a while, and the followers were surprisingly receptive to you. There, you shared small snippets of your life (nothing too personal), pics of you, of Luna, your pets and even pics of Fernando (but they didn't show his face or anything recognizable).

- You found out you were pregnant again a little bit before your 3 year anniversary with Fernando, so you decided to tell him about the baby with a cute little present (a box with a custom AM baby onesie, baby socks with the number 14 and the positive pregnancy test). You moved in together around that time (Luna also started picking up spanish because of the familiarity of living with Fernando).

- Luna took the news very well, you and Fernando were scared she wasn't going to like it, but she was very excited about a little sibling. And because of Luna, it didn't take long for her to tell her dad about it. Which resulted in a frantic call you got from your Lewis late at night asking if it was true, he went ballistic once you confirmed and before he could do anything, you hung up on him.

- Only two weeks later, a paparazzi posted pictures he took of you, Luna and Fernando walking around in his hometown. It sent the world into a frenzy. You calmed down an angry Fernando telling him it was a coincidence, but deep down you knew it wasn't. Luckily, your pregnancy wasn't showing at that time, so no one noticed.

- You sent Lewis a big rant via text, and all the screenshots of the texts the woman who he cheated on you with sent you when you were pregnant with Luna. Then you blocked him before he could reply. There was a big wave of hatred towards you when the news came out, not only on social media, but also in general media outlets.

- Only a couple of days later, Lewis was questioned about your (now public) relationship with one of his rivals. Surprisingly, he said you were a single woman and he just wanted you to be happy. He also held himself accountable and came clean about the cheating that caused your relationship to end.

- Fernando wanted to retire immediately after finding out you were pregnant, but you convinced him to think better and at least finish the current season in Formula One. When the season ended, you were around five months pregnant.

- You went to the last race of that season with Fernando, a pretty dress that clung to your body as you proudly showed the baby bump and a jacket with a big 14 on the back. That was his last race before retirement and there was a small symbolic ceremony to celebrate his career.

- Fernando and Luna got a great relationship, and she even asked him to take her karting in his track frquently. She enjoyed time with him, and Fernando always respected his role as a step father. Eventually, after her brother, Vicenzo, was born, she started calling Fernando "Papá Nano" because her brother called him "Papá". (There was a long conversation with Lewis about his opinion on the matter, and after some discussion, he said Luna could call Fernando that as long as Lewis kept being the only Dad/Daddy)

- You and Lewis manage to get a good, respectable relationship for the sake of Luna. You never found out if he was the one who leaked your relationship with Fernando (and you never cared to ask).

- You and Fernando got married in a little intimate wedding ceremony on the beach, just the closest family and friends. Vicenzo was 2 and Luna was 7 when the wedding happened. You got pregnant again by accident after the honeymoon.

IDK I JUST THINK ABOUT AN OVERALL HAPPY ENDING BECAUSE READER DESERVES IT.

#f1 fanfic #fic talk #f1 x reader #ask rae #f1 imagine #f1 fic #fernando alonso x you #fernando alonso x reader

[sailor-aviator]

Hey.

Go ahead and get settled because this will be...long, in true Liz fashion.

So, by now I'm sure most of you have heard what's happened. If not, you can search this blog for some answers or others for more.

I joined this fandom offiicially at the end of September after being a long time lurker. I had just lost my job and times were uncertain for me. I felt inspired to write, and as someone whose formative years were shaped by the fandom experience, I wanted to feel that sense of belonging again - to feel like a part of a community. I've talked about it on here before, but I started my fandom days in the original Hunger Games fandom when the first movie had just come out, and then I shifted gears towards the SuperWhoLock fandom. If you know anything about SuperWhoLock, then you know you had to have pretty tough fucking skin to be a part of any of it.

Of course, this was back in the day when fandom was an actual community and not authors having to beg for scraps of engagement and people thinking its a numbers game. I was a fairly large blog within the SuperWhoLock community (Waywardly-Carrying-On was the username), but I left fandom for a few years because life got hectic and I felt like I had outgrown the fandom itself as I was no longer watching any of the shows. As the years went on, I started to yearn for the fandom experience again, which is how I found myself dipping toes into several different ones.

I was so excited to publish my first fanfic. I had convinced myself that I wasn't a good writer (much to the chagrin of my irl friends), and I had put a pause on writing my original story. I wanted to write this idea about a cowboy and a girl using characters that I had grown to love like I did way back in my older days. So, I started posting, and I was so excited for the story, that I kept posting almost daily. MamaMay was one of the first people to embrace not only my story, but me as a person into the fandom. She made me feel welcomed and wanted.

Pretty much right off the bat I was already getting anons telling me that I was being too much and that I needed to calm down with all the posting. I was confused because...this is Tumblr. It's literally a blogging website? Why wouldn't I post? I decided to ignore the mean words (not before giving my opinion, of course) and kept on doing my thing. Well, the anons got continually worse and worse. I had a suspiscion as to who the anons could be, but I never had concrete proof. So, I experimented with blocking suspects until finally it worked. I'm not naming names because that's not my style, so don't even bother asking.

The fact of the matter is, some of you have entered fandom spaces for the first time, and you don't know how to act. You don't care to learn fandom etiquette as you've made abundantly clear by calling fandom olds every name under the sun while utilizing the anonymous feature. Newsflash, you're part of the problem. You're the reason why authors don't want to publish anymore. You are the reason that something that's supposed to be fun is starting to feel like a goddamn chore.

How many times can authors on here say that we aren't machines? We have lives outside of this website: family, friends, jobs, school, etc. Some of you really are just hellbent on making everyone around you miserable, and it's sad. You can't just leave well enough alone and let people enjoy something, no you feel like everyone has to enjoy it the same way as you.

Some of you go after authors on here because of some weird sense of jealousy too. I don't know why my shit blew up, babe, I really don't. But I started out with no followers and no support just like everyone else. I'll tell you what helped me though: following fandom etiquette and reaching out to other creators to build an actual community. None of this "I've reblogged three of your things and now I'm messaging you so that you return the favor." No, I reached out to make actual friendships which is what fandom is SUPPOSED to be. If someone was clearly not interested, it was fine!! I backed off and kept doing my own thing.

Some of you think being mean on the internet makes you big and bad. Guess what! It doesn't! It's loser mentality and I feel genuinely sorry for you. I'm sorry that people in your own life made you feel so small as to feel like you had to lash out at strangers on the internet who are just trying to have fun.

Anyway, this is my really long way of saying that I am taking a break for a little bit. I have no idea how long it will be - could be the weekend, could be a couple of weeks, could be forever. I need time to decide if this is something I want to keep persuing. If I come back, I don't know if I will remain a TGM blog or if I'll shift gears and hop into another fandom with a rebrand. Guess we'll just have to see.

To the people on here who have been a constant source of joy, laughter, and support: thank you. From the bottom of my heart. Your presence has meant everything to me, and I hope that my break sees me wanting to come back and giggle about the silly plane movie with you all again.

Nothing but love,

Liz 💛

#psa #public service announcement #this has been a psa #liz speaks #liz rambles #long post

[lostinforestbound]

And for my grand finale of my Rolan brainrot thoughts, the moment you probably have all been waiting for:

Rolan NSFW Headcanons

MDNI

Disclaimer: If you think differently than what I write here that is totally okay! These are just opinions!

First and foremost, I believe he's a switch! It can also depend on his partners preference, but he doesn't mind doing one or the other. I will say that he can have trouble bottoming/submitting super early on because it can be a very vulnerable experience, and he may get overwhelmed quickly. Will he admit that? Of course not, he's too prideful and his communication skills are horrid.

There's a lot of talk about with whether Rolan is a virgin or had a couple flings in the past during his time in Elturel, and I like either one! The most important thing is that he's definitely inexperienced. He doesn't know what he likes or dislikes yet, and would like to explore that with his partner once he's comfortable.

Bite him! Mark him! Give him hickies! Gods he goes absolutely insane for them, especially when he's on the receiving end. He would prefer all of it to be under the collar, but one of his favorite places is that tender spot right between the jaw and ear. It's one of the many ways to get him mewling. He'll definitely bite back if his partner likes it.

I would say he's pretty vanilla in general, but is open to trying something new if his partner is kinkier. It's something he would have to work up to as it can be intimidating, but with enough reassurances he's willing to try anything once. Besides, if he doesn't like it, he's pretty vocal about it and they know not to try again.

He wouldn't like being heavily restrained or gagged (at least at the same time), it feels too demeaning for him. I think he would like the idea of him being blindfolded, but would request that his partner keeps a hand on him at all times so he knows that they're still there. This would be a once in a while type of deal as it can get overwhelming quickly.

Speaking of dislikes: deliberate pain is a turnoff. Anything that would intentionally hurt he's not into. So things like whipping, harsh choking, smacking around, or any kind of pain infliction, he can't do it whether it's giving or receiving. (But he would still be into marking like I said earlier!) I don't think he would outright dislike degradation but those kinds of nights are on the rare side.

Now for the likes: Praise!!! For the love of the gods, praise this man, he loves it and his cock throbs when he's receiving it. It's the best way to get him worked up as well. Ordering him around is also good, he's very obedient and an incredible listener.

The act of intimacy is private for him, so public sex is definitely a big no. He wants everything to be private and only with his partner. He doesn't want to be anxious about getting caught while in the middle of things, it ruins his mood. Besides, his partner wants to keep his whines, moans, whimpers, and begging to themselves. They're such pretty sounds.

He tends to feel guilty whenever he's not in the mood or has to stop anything they're doing, it's instinctive and frustrates him. He knows he has no reason to feel guilty, his partner reassures that all the time, but sometimes that guilt crawls into the back of his mind. His depression and panic disorder cause him to have low libido, so he's not in the mood for intimacy most days. Though he's still just as satisfied with purely focusing on his partner and not himself. (When he works on himself and finds solutions to help him with his mental health, his libido increases!)

King of Oral Sex. After learning about his partner's body and practicing for a few sessions, he's incredible at it. It ends up being one of his favorite things to do, some nights he evens pleads for it, begging to taste them.

The best way his partner will find out he's horny is the way the base of his tail arches upward. That tail has a mind of its own, and he can't quite control it. He uses his tail a lot, using to either hold their thighs apart or wrap around their torso desperately. (Or if his partner is a tiefling/dragonborn, wrap around their tail!)

His more sensitive areas besides his neck are the insides of thighs and his pelvic area. If you play with his chest enough though, that becomes sensitive as well.

He definitely starts bringing in magic bedroom as soon as he gets comfortable. Imagine what they could do with some of these spells! Mage hand (or multiple of them), disguise self, entangle, maybe fly as well...ah, telekinesis is also a good one! How about enhance ability? If either him or his partner can't use words, they'll both gently cast detect thoughts to check in.

Aftercare is extremely important to him, whether he's giving or receiving it. He and his partner switch depending on who wants to do it that night. Though being on the receiving end of it, it makes him feel so loved. It won't take long for him to start purring, falling asleep in their arms. When it's his turn, he takes his time and is incredibly tender. He'll get anything they ask for and more.

(And we're done! I hope you enjoyed!!! I had a lot of fun making these and I hope to make more in the future when I reopen requests! If you have your own headcanons, please share!)

#forest-writes #rolan #bg3 rolan #holy rolan empire #rolan bg3 #rolan x tav #rolan x reader #rolanites #rolan nation #rolan brainrot

[xxchumanixx]

Hii, some Tim Bradford X sunshine!reader who is his rookie??

Little Miss Sunshine

Tim Bradford x reader

Warnings: pure fluff, honestly so much fluff, reader is a little sunshine. Word count: 801 Authors note: Hello love, thanks for the request! I hope you'll like it, I for my part really do! Enjoy!

It all had started when Grey played the matchmaking game, assigning each of the new rookies to a TO. You were paired with Tim Bradford, a man that was as equally handsome as distant at first.

He looked like someone you wouldn't want to mess with, sure kicking your ass out on the street first chance he'd get.

So, when you were sitting in the shop together, after he explained everything he deemed necessary, he was truly surprised by your calm, yet radiating nature.

You would do what he'd tell you with a smile on your face, responding so calmly yet confident, that he at first thought you were messing with him. You made it hard for him to be grumpy and moody, his Tim-tests falling short.

He'd soon call you little miss sunshine, the name fitting - in his opinion - like a glove to you. You were kind, friendly and open to him and others, not like many others of his rookies had been in the past.

You were constantly trying to make him smile, making jokes and funny comments, all the while still focusing on your work.

It was something he valued, being surprised at the way you were always a hundred percent on board, no matter if you'd only moments ago made a joke or just simply admired the sun shining down at you, in a city that had only about 40 days of rainy weather.

After about half a year he was sure he'd never have a rookie like you again - not because he didn't want to, but because you were so truly special, that he was sure he'd never find someone like you again, even if he'd try.

Your smile reached depths of his heart he would have never dared to mutter out loud, bathing in your glow in secret whenever you'd grace him with one of your smiles.

You were slowly melting him, like a snowman in the sun. He was the snowman and you were undoubtedly the sun, melting his icy ways until he was puddy in your hands.

You were slowly turning him inside out, something everyone but him seemed to notice at some point.

"Hey, Tim." you spoke up, silently giggling to yourself already. His head tipped your way, motioning for you to continue, whilst he continued driving. "Why was Cinderella so bad at soccer?"

He sighed to himself, the tug of his lips barely hidden as he fought against a smile. "Why?"

"Because she kept running from the ball!"

He inhaled deeply and stilled for a moment, shaking his head, as he let go of the air slowly in a way to stop himself from giving into you. Afterwards he snorted though, chuckling to himself.

"That was a bad one." he chided you playfully, and you rolled your eyes with a grin stretching your lips. "You laughed, so it wasn't that bad, Bradford."

Now he rolled his eyes, snorting again. "You're insufferable." he told you, though he knew he was far from the truth. If he could he would have listened to you telling bad jokes all day, just to listen to you at all.

"Shut up." you retorted, lightly shoving him. "You love me and you know it."

He had to refrain himself from inhaling shakily, opting to clear his throat instead. You were right, and it pained him.

It pained him in a way that made it very clear for him that you were his rookie, thus off limits to him. You still had a few months of training left, which meant he'd have to stay behind the fine line of decency until then.

He'd ask you out on a date, if you'd want that, afterwards.

Until then, he'd have to admire you from the distance.

And you had to, too.

It hadn't taken long to fall for the handsome an broody man. He accommodated his training to your needs, always keeping an eye out for you.

He laughed at you silly jokes, even if they weren't funny at all.

You couldn't wait for your training to be over, finally being able to make a move on your feelings for him, that had you floating towards the sun.

"Another one:" you proposed, sitting more upright. "What do you call an angry carrot?" You patiently waited for an answer of his, not missing the way he sent you a look of confusion through his peripheral, causing you to chuckle.

"A steamed veggie!"

You were laughing, and that was all it took for him to laugh along with you. He was knee deep in trouble, but he would gladly drown in it, if it meant he'd be able to spend time with you, see your smile and hear your laugh.

'Cause after all, you were his little miss sunshine.

@laheysfilm @newobsessionweekly

@augustvandyne @RookieTrek

@dhunhdchrih @nachofriess

#the rookie #the rookie imagine #the rookie x reader #the rookie x u #tim bradford #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x you #tim bradford imagine #imagine

[lieslab]

Teacher's pet

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Chan X gn reader

Summary: Chan finds you late at night struggling with the realization that your high school teacher groomed you.

Genre: Angst with comfort/hurt

Word Count: 3.9K

Trigger warning: Grooming, pedophilia, abuse of power via manipulation, mentions of sex, rape, and sexual assault.

A/N: To the requester for this one, I tried my best while writing this. I did quite a bit of research with this topic. This is incredibly heavy stuff. I'm sorry that this happened to you and to the rest of you, if you've ever gone through something similar, I'm so sorry. Grooming is horrible and I wish it was one of the many things that didn't exist in the world. I hope this can provide, even if it's just a sliver, some sort of comfort <3

_ _ _

When Chan came home from work, you were missing. The two of you had shared an apartment for quite a while. You both went half and half for everything. Living with a roommate made everything cheaper. 

“Where are you?” Chan called out. He let his knuckles fall against your bedroom door, but there wasn’t a response. Holding his breath, he turned the knob and pushed the door open to reveal nothing. 

Your bed was messy and unmade. Your favorite color of bedding was twisted and one of your pillows was nearly tipping onto the floor. A half-smile came over Chan’s face as he picked it up and placed it back in its proper spot. 

It seemed like you were missing, until he realized your bedroom window was unlocked. So you must have climbed out onto the roof. This late at night, it was a treacherous and dangerous task, but you still managed. 

You managed to find the footholes in the darkness. In your worn sneakers, you scaled up the two story building and sat up on the fired clay. It wasn’t the best idea, but the roof was where you could breathe. 

You and Chan came out here at night all the time. When life became too heavy and you needed fresh air, this was where you went. He came out here to come up with new lyrics and song ideas. 

It wasn’t often that the two of you crossed paths on the roof. When you did, the two of you sat in your respective spots. Chan sat on the left and you sat on the right. Your legs dangled over the edge and the moon hung high up in the sky. 

Dotted with freckled constellations and the occasional shooting star, you were at ease up here. The air smelled faintly sweet and floral from the cherry blossom trees. In your opinion, they smelled better up here.

The busy traffic of Seoul slowed to a crawl late at night. Most of the time, there’d barely be anyone out here. When they drove by, the faint hum of the accelerator and the occasional huff of gasoline or diesel drifted by. 

This time of night, it was wondrous. The grass was starting to grow again and this was the first time you had been up here since winter. The iciness and chill made the roof tiles too slick to climb. 

On the roof, you let your legs dangle down and your ankles hung off the edge. Chan pried his fingers beneath your window panel and pushed it up. He stuck his head out and reached up.

You stayed still at the sound of stirring from below. Chan climbed up the side of the building and onto his side of the roof. With a groan, he dropped his body onto the cracking tile. 

Your eyes briefly darted towards him before they went back and refound the distance across the way. He must have just got back from the studio. He was still in a pair of black basketball shorts and a matching zip-up hoodie. 

His calves were illuminated by the white moonlight. He rubbed them a few moments and curled his legs up while mimicking your own posture. 

Your legs were tucked to your chest and your arms wrapped around them. The natural line of your mouth drooped down a little more tonight. There was a glassiness to your eyes, as if you were holding back tears. 

When Chan realized it, he frowned, but he didn’t want to pry. “Rough night?” He offered weakly. 

All you could do was nod without a word. Sometimes reality was like a shard of glass. Swallowing it left your throat hoarse and mangled. It shredded the slippery sides of your esophagus and tore all the way down. The ache and burn left behind was embedded in your brain and it’d always linger like a shadow. 

“Wanna talk about it?” Chan offered. 

You shook your head and kept your gaze to the distance. If you looked at him, you’d break down and you didn’t want to do that. You wanted to forget about this dark period in your life. You wanted to toss out the memories and let them drift away in the wind; never able to hurt you ever again, but memories are not like dust, they’re much more like syrup. 

You can scrub and scrape, but there will always be sticky parts left behind and between the intricate folds of your brain. You can dig and claw, but some memories will be there until the end of time; small annoying bits that are just out of reach. 

“Hmm, okay.” Chan slung a hand over his opposite wrist. The two of you sat for a few moments until a dimpled grin stretched across his face. “What if I offered you your favorite popsicle?” 

You glanced over at him with a raised eyebrow. He let out a small giggle and reached into the pocket of his hoodie. When he pulled it out, he was gripping the familiar packaging of your favorite popsicle flavor.

That must have been the reason why he came up here to begin with. Sometimes the two of you would get things for one another. He must have been unable to wait for you to come down, so he went up. 

“Thank you,” you managed to mumble as you gently pulled it from his hand. 

“You can thank me by telling me what’s got you so glum.” He pulled out another popsicle from his other pocket and began to unpeel it. “You know me, I won’t judge you.” He flashed you a reassuring smile before he tore open the wrapper. 

“I know.” 

“Then what is it?” He couldn’t help himself. He was so curious and he was dying to know. It was an itch that couldn't be scratched enough. “What’s on your mind? Hmm?” He shifted closer to you and took a bite of his frozen treat. 

Your lips pressed together and you debated on telling him. The topic was one you had never told him about and it would be a tough conversation for the two of you to have. You sucked in a deep breath before you released it. 

“It’s um…it’s quite a conversation. It’s a lot and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” 

Chan laughed, “how bad could it really be?” 

“I loved him,” you mumbled. Your eyes stayed on your treat while you slowly began to unwrap it. 

“Who?” 

“My teacher.” 

It was slightly melted from where it pressed against the warmth of Chan’s skin. You remembered how warm skin could be. After all, you felt the contact of another human far more than you wanted to when you were younger. 

Chan snorted and rolled his eyes. “I loved some of my teachers too. My favorite one was my second grade teacher. What’s the big deal?” 

“No,” you shook your head, “I loved him.” 

“Like…crushing?” 

You sucked in a deep breath and shut your eyes. “It was more than that. It was so much more and there’s a whole story involved. It’s a messy situation that still has me pretty screwed up. I wish he didn’t control me anymore, but…” 

You bit your lip trying not to cry. Ever since you found out that the high school teacher, who had groomed you, had gotten married, it was killing you. That was supposed to be you. You were supposed to be the one who married him. He talked about it all the time. 

Chan pulled his half-consumed popsicle away from his mouth. With furrowed eyebrows, he took in the distress on your face. His lips puckered together before he went on. “Did something happen?” 

“I fell in love with him.” 

“Your teacher?” 

“And you know what the worst part is?” Glossy tears began to fill your eyes. “I really believed he loved me back.” 

Chan stayed silent and attempted to put all the pieces together. The things you were saying weren’t adding up. There was no way you had a thing with your teacher as a kid. No fucking way. He would have known and you would have told him. 

He swallowed the lump in his throat and forced himself to speak. “I’m not sure I understand what you’re talking about.” 

“It started at the beginning of high school. I had the most amazing math teacher. He was young and he was charming. He couldn’t have been much older than his late twenties. He looked like he walked straight out of Hollywood.” 

“The very first assignment he assigned was a get to know me project. He knew I lived with my mom because I mentioned that my dad had been killed in a car accident. I was a kid and that grief was still so new. I was grieving and so was my mom.” 

Chan nodded and let you continue. 

“And then not too long after that, he’d start asking me to stay after class, so he could help me with a few lessons. It was fine in the beginning, I was just a student who needed some extra help, but it escalated.” 

The popsicle was beginning to melt down your hand, but you didn’t care. It oozed across your thumb and caressed your wrist. If you paid too close attention, you could still feel his warm callouses brush against your soft skin. 

“And that’s when the touching began.” 

“The touching?” 

“It was innocent, I swear. He’d come up behind me and began to rub my shoulders while I worked on problems. He’d bend down and whisper his advice into my ear.” 

You squeezed your eyes shut. Involuntarily, your body was reliving everything. Goosebumps slipped down your arms and a chill swept across your spine. 

“Despite how weird it was, I didn’t mind it. Things continued and he made me feel wanted. Over time, he started to get permission from my mom to bring me home. He used to ask about my dad. Apparently, he lost his own dad when he was a kid, so he knew how it felt.” 

Chan felt nothing, but disgust. He wanted to plug his ears and he wanted you to stop. How old were you during that time? Thirteen? Maybe fourteen at the latest? You were just a kid. 

“I missed my dad so much and he was so kind. I loved the extra attention. During class, he’d brush an arm against me and mutter an apology. He’d let his hand drag across my desk a little longer than normal as he collected my paper with a smile.” 

“I-I don’t know. I just really liked how he made me feel and I know-” Your voice cut off. The lump in your throat sat there like a boulder. “I know it wasn’t right, but at the time, I adored everything about it.” 

You wiped an arm across your eyes and kept your fingers wrapped around the popsicle stick with the other hand. Your fingers had gone white around the wooden stick. Reliving all of it was like a knife in the chest. 

“There was one day where I was in his car. He started to attend all my sporting events to cheer me on. My mom was sick, so she asked if he could drive me there. I-I know how awful it is, but he asked me if I ever had intercourse.” 

Chan’s voice stuck in his throat. He couldn’t breathe. He wished he could wake up from this nightmare. How could he not know about this? How long had you been burying this pain inside? 

“And then when I said no-” 

His heart dropped. 

“He said he could show me, so I knew what to do.” 

And then it shattered. His own tears began to creep up in his eyes. You were just a kid, at that age, you were practically a goddamn baby. How dare someone in such a privileged position hurt you like that. 

He was a teacher and you were his student. There was a position of power over you. It wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair, and it was morally fucked. 

He wanted to throw up. The sweet burst of cold popsicle faded from his tongue. Now the artificial sweetness wanted to make him vomit. He wanted to bend over and throw up. 

After a few moments, despite it all, he finally got out the words he was afraid to ask. “Did he…you know?” 

When you didn’t respond, he already knew. It crushed his heart. His lungs were on fire and they had burst. An indescribable bright blue rage had ignited. It burned hot enough that it could melt towns and murder platoons of fully armed men. 

“Your teacher raped you,” he whispered. 

“It wasn’t like that, I said yes and I-” 

“You were a child!” His voice flew out stern. “You were a child and he was a teacher! He should have never put his filthy hands on you! That goddamn bastard, I’ll fucking kill him!” The tears in your eyes slid down your cheeks faster. “How long did this go on for?” 

“Years,” you weakly got out. “It stopped a few months after I graduated. He said that he needed space. He said it wasn’t working out. He said I-I wasn’t good enough anymore. He said so many things.” 

Chan silently did math in his head. He remembered that when he met you, you had graduated nearly a year prior. The two of you were around the same age at the time, but that was years ago. It must have been shortly after the fact. 

“And where is he now?” 

“Still teaching.” 

“I- Huh? What?” 

“He’s still at the same school and teaching the same grade. He just recently got married to a girl that graduated a few months ago.” 

Chan closed his eyes and tried to focus on calming his raging blood pressure. It wouldn’t help either of you, but he was furious. He probably did the same thing to that girl that he did to you. He probably groomed her too and it made him want to scream and throw something. He wasn’t okay with people taking advantage of others and, specifically, more younger people. 

You sniffled and stared out at the distant neon lights. A silence grew between the two of you and you knew you hurt Chan’s feelings. You didn’t mean to, but you needed to get it all out. 

“How do you feel about it now?” 

You paused for a moment thinking about his words. “I feel so ugly. I feel like I was used and then tossed to the side. I know it sounds bad, but I wish I still had his validation. I still crave it even though it’s been years.” 

“I’m really sorry you went through that. It’s a tough situation and you were a kid. You don’t have to beat yourself up over it. You didn’t know and I-” 

“But I did know. I knew what was going on and I wanted it to happen. I liked him and it made me feel good. It made me feel loved, so he didn’t groom me and it’s my fau-” 

“Don’t make excuses for him!” Chan’s voice went shrill. “He was a grown man and you were a child! You were a baby! You were just growing into becoming your own person and starting high school!” 

“Don’t you dare give him another excuse. He knew what he was doing and he knew it was wrong. He should have had the intelligence to stay away from you and never pursue you like that. He’s sick!” 

“Y-You don’t get it.” 

“You’re the one who doesn’t get it. You’re letting this man get away with this disgusting behavior. What about that girl, huh? What about that girl he married? If another teacher was sleeping with a fourteen year old, would that be okay?” 

“No! No! Of course not, but things were dif-” 

“You were groomed,” Chan cut you off. Tears streamed down his face. The popsicle was long gone from his hand. Instead, it melted into a puddle on the warm roof tile. “You are a victim in this whole scenario.” 

“But I-” 

“You are. You are a victim and I will not stop saying it because it’s clear you’ve been brainwashed. You were a child and you didn’t know any better. You were put in an adult scenario when you were a child. You were taken advantage of by a pedophile. Do you hear me?” 

Angry tears of frustration poured down his cheeks. He hated that you were blaming yourself for this situation. He hated that you couldn’t see the situation like he could. The grooming had worked on you. So blinded, the truth was skewered in your eyes. 

“I will never shut up about it. You were sexually assaulted and raped by a pedophile. You were a child and I don’t care how nice he was. I don’t care if he bribed you with compliments and the affection your life lacked.” 

“If you had a fourteen year old kid now, what would you think? If this same thing happened to them? If they came home and announced they had sex with their high school teac-” 

“Stop!” You cried as you squeezed your eyes shut. “That’s different! It’s entirely different! Stop it! Stop it!” 

“Then tell me what the difference is.” 

“The difference was that it was me! I was mature for my age and I-” Your eyes reopened to look at Chan. 

The way he was looking at you now, it was killing you. The glassy eyes and the furrowed eyebrows. There was anger looming in that russet brown. The moonlight reflected off them and bounced it back towards you. 

You couldn’t help it as your exterior began to crack. Like an egg, pieces of shell were ripped away. Your bottom lip trembled and you struggled to get out the next few words. 

“T-The difference is that I just wanted to be loved by a father figure. I-I missed my dad so much and I-” You didn’t get a chance to finish because you burst into sobs. 

It was overwhelming as you cried. The stickiness still stuck to your hand. The liquified popsicle drizzled down the clay tiles and dripped off the roof. This hurt buried inside was killing you. You remembered all of it. 

You remembered how uncomfortable you were when his chapped lips met yours. You remembered the way his fingers tightened against your hips. Puberty was still relatively new to you and you were trying to grow more into your developing body. 

Your limbs were a little longer. There was more weight in places there hadn’t been before. It was only the start of freshman year. You were new to high school and things were much different. 

You remembered how much it hurt the first time. How you were left to fend for yourself in a puddle of your own warm blood. A little fearful, you remembered the growing disgust you felt deep inside yourself, but you thought it was normal. 

You couldn’t get your innocence back. Society was cruel when it came to such a thing. You weren’t pure anymore, you were infected and diseased. You were as filthy as the rest of them. A fallen angel who had lost their wings. 

If your mother ever would have known, she would have lost it. You always grew up being told sexual intimacy was something that happened a lot later in life, but you were so mature for your age. At least, that’s what your teacher said. 

He liked the way your body looked. You were young, you were fresh, you were nothing, but a docile little lamb. With your sparkling doe-eyes, you were nothing, but a toy for him. 

Your skin was unmarked by anyone before him. You were so young and naive. You were malleable and pliable; perfect for a hungry wolf like himself. The young lambs always have the cleanest and purest blood; they always taste the sweetest. 

You wanted love, he wanted pleasure. You wanted affection, he craved attention. You wanted a father, he wanted your freshly ripened body; straight from the vine, you were plucked for him and him alone. 

What a perfect and sweet peach that you were. So ripe, so delectable, not a bruise detected on your delicate flesh. And your juice, how irresistible you were. 

Plucked from the vine, yanked from the others, and taken a bite out of. When you were old enough, you were tossed to the ground. It was there where you rotted with the other withering peaches.

You fermented a soft sweetness for the flies until you withered brown and green. You withered away in the scorching sun. Your once soft skin writhed and squirmed until you decomposed into the dirt to be walked over again and again and again. 

You had never felt quite right since then. You searched for love in the wrong places. You fell to your knees and begged for an ounce of love. Nobody could fill you and supply you with enough love as your teacher had. 

He told you just enough to keep you happy. After a while of teaching a dog a new trick, you don’t have to teach them anymore. You grew to learn what he liked and disliked. It was a toxic tornado filled with an improper power dynamic. 

He didn’t care about the sticky hands and half-melted popsicles anymore. Chan gently grabbed your forearm and pulled your body towards him. Your shoes scraped along the cracked tile. 

Beneath the moonlight, you fell apart as Chan’s hands wrapped around you. Unlike your teacher, his hands didn’t roam your body. They didn’t search for sexual pleasure. He didn’t use your body for his advantage. His arms wrapped around your back and they stayed there. 

He soothed you softly and rocked you back and forth trying to comfort you. He had no doubt that you were exhausted. This was a lot to share with anyone and that included him. He continued to rock you and placed his chin on the top of your head. 

He’d sway all night if he had to. He’d sing you a soft lullaby and lure you to sleep. He’d keep away anyone who dared to lay a rotten finger on you. 

In a few hours, the moon would be replaced with sunlight. He didn’t know what tomorrow would bring. Your sobs began to turn into quick hiccups. He kept his arms around you and quietly cooed. 

He needed to find you someone to talk to. Your perception of everything was still warped. The past still had its claws on you. You were still under the illusion your teacher had created. You were a victim, but he was determined to help you become a survivor. 

You were so strong. You had hid this from him for years. As your hiccups began to fade away, he gently placed his lips on the top of your head in an attempt to comfort you. 

No matter what happened tomorrow, he’d remind you how much he loved you over and over again. He’d continue to show you what real love was. Again and again, he’d show you until one day, you realized what healthy love truly looked like.

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Masterlist

Requests, taglist, and inbox rules

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids drabbles #stay #skz fanfic #bang chan #bang chan fic #bang chan fanfic #bang chan x reader #kpop fanfic #bang chan x you #bang chan x y/n #bang chan comfort #bang chan angst

[elismor]

I see a lot of posts going by about comments and kudos and hits and...well... I've been thinking about the three quite a lot lately--as both a fic author and someone who spends a lot of my professional life looking at web metrics and determining which are actually important/accurate measures of user engagement.

Mileage varies, of course. And this is all just MY opinion, so do feel free to ignore it wholesale.

What I think when I see someone say that sorting by a hits to to kudos ratio is a good way to find "good" fic:

Hits are a measure of quantity (how many times your story or art has been viewed), but without knowing how AO3 defines a hit, it's actually kind of a meaningless number.  We know that our own views of our work do not count toward hits, but...if my BFF looks at my story 7 times in one day because she keeps trying to read it but getting interrupted...is that one hit, or seven? And if it's seven, then the numbers are artificially inflated because it's really just Bestie trying to get her Codex fix. And...if Bestie looks at it three times today and four tomorrow...is that 7 hits total, or two? 

Some transparency on the part of AO3 could clear this up handily, but until we get that...shrug. All it is is a number that may or may not be an accurate reflection of how many actual people looked at the page your fic is on.  Did they READ it? Or did they nope out?  No way to know.

Kudos are intended to be slightly more qualitative, but there is no way of knowing why the reader gave them. (Similar to likes here on tumblr.) It might be that they loved the piece. It might be a simple acknowledgement that the reader was there. It might even be a pity kudo. We have no way of knowing. It's, again, just a number.

Obviously, everyone is free to interpret both hits and kudos as positive reaction/interaction. I might do that myself if I didn't spend my workdays explaining to people that 50,000 "hits" to the website could be 50K people who came to learn about us or...simply the result of the computer labs on campus having the university homepage set to default.

Bigger numbers are just that....bigger numbers.

Comments are the only objective way to judge how someone is reacting to your fic or art.

So, what then? Sort by number of comments?

You can do that, sure. (I think. I confess I have never once gotten the AO3 search to work as well as people rave about.) But do keep in mind that many authors answer their comments. So, something with, say, 20 comments may be 20 people telling the author they loved it. Or it might be ten people and ten author-replies. OR, it might be three people having a conversation in the comments. You have to look and see.  

Bigger numbers are just bigger numbers.

Okay, fine Elis. What am I supposed to do then?

Look, I'm not your mother or your therapist and you are free to assign whatever meanings you like to these things. I, personally, find "good" fic through a combination of things including: recs, the fandom grapevine, dumb luck, events, and just...reading some of it and not feeling guilty if I nope out for some reason.

This all sounds a little depressing when laid out like this, huh? Especially when you take into account the downward trends in interacting and the rise of folks treating fic and art as content to be consumed. 

Here's what I have learned from writing fic for 30 years (well, 28 and counting):

As an author (and an artist, I would presume), you have absolutely no way of predicting which of your work will land and take hold and which will not. It's alchemy and luck and the weird (and not actual) algorithm of fandom. Sometimes, the piece you whipped out in 30 minutes and posted on the fly will land in the right person's inbox and they will share it and their friends will share it and it will get big.  Sometimes, the piece you slaved over for weeks and weeks will do that...sometimes it won't.  Sometimes your genius manifests and resonates, sometimes it does not.

My personal favorite fic of my own--the one I think is probably the best thing I have done in SW fandom-- has like 8 kudos and 4 comments (2 of which are my responses). Is it disappointing? Yes. Is it an indication that the fic is objectively "bad"? No.

The mercenary in me suggests that if you want to get lots of comments and kudos, you should pick the pairing that is THE pairing in the fandom and write for that--because that's where the eyeballs are, because that's where the connections are.  But that is not why I write, so it's just that--a very mercenary way of looking at things. Not that there is anything WRONG with doing it that way. Supply and demand run the world. If the people want Codywan and you want the people....give them Codywan. No shame in that.

And there is no shame in wanting or seeking validation for your work, either.

But it breaks my heart to see authors (and artists) give up on themselves when they do not receive piles of kudos and comments. It's not you. It's...the luck of the draw. It's...fandom. It's...an artificial and murky set of measurements that have almost no basis in anything meaningful.

Keep writing. Keep drawing. Keep sharing. You are what you make, not how people respond to it.

#let's talk about fic baby #fandom #kudos and comments

[bunnakit]

my stand in episode 1 thoughts, feelings, etc.

OHOHOOO FINALLY. FINALLY I FEEL INSANE ABOUT A SHOW AGAIN. poom phuripan my absolute beloved, i've missed you so fucking much.

the show really eases you into everything and so far i don't mind the back and forth, i think it's interesting to see the direct consequences and THEN the story of how we got here. i don't know if my opinion on that will change later but for right now it's really pleasing me. i also really like this gradual introduction we're getting into everything and the sort of thriller/mystery vibe to it all. it's giving me some very loose/vague manner of death vibes.

i immediately don't like the vibes of tong or wut but i'm reserving any real accusations until later, but i'm def side eyeing them. i've got my eye on you two.

it really took my brain some getting used to to understanding the joe we're seeing is joe's consciousness and everyone else is seeing the joe that was shown in his reflection in the hospital (i've never seen vice versa or many other shows that do this, forgive me) but once i wrapped my head around it i actually quite like it. mostly bc it means i still get to see a lot of poom.

anyway - thus far this has one of my favorite romance tropes; guy who is used to being treated badly/ignored and man who has too much love to give (to someone who may or may not deserve it, judgement withstanding on that rn.) joe is just such a heart eyed fool and i'm so glad to see poom in another role of lovesick, unfairly attractive, dork. it's a role he plays so well and he immediately endears you to joe so fucking much.

throughout most of the episode i was like ooh this is a bummer but the angst isn't too bad. and then. AND THEN.

ming coming over to joe's house and making a move on him, again, from the perspective of behind joe - where he looks so much like tong. the lamenting about him being a virgin and joe offering himself up to him. and then ming turning him back around to face the mirror. this way he looks so much like tong, he can pretend it's tong, and yet at the same time joe's face is right there, reflected back in the mirror, inescapable. i'm fucking eating this up, finally some good fucking food.

idk i'm probably not touching on everything i want to, it's been a long ass time since i've done one of these, but this is just what immediately comes to mind. now time to go make a gifset lmao.

(if you give me novel spoilers i WILL hunt you for sport)

#bunn meta #my stand in the series #my stand in #my stand-in #my stand-in the series #poom phuripan #up poompat #usersasa #clairedaring #<- lmk if you want to be added to tags or removed for future eps!!

[lovemyromance]

I'm going to say this once, and I am not going to voice this again because the fact that it even has to be said, is absolutely crazy.

Nothing in ACOSF has shown us that Gwyn is ready for a relationship. She can't even leave the library at the end of ACOSF to attend Nessian's mating ceremony. She is probably now even more traumatized after the BR, and rightfully so.

Could she one day be in a relationship with a male/female? Sure. But that time is not now, right after ACOSF.

Right now, she is NOT ready for a relationship with anyone (including Azriel).

Do not get me wrong. If there had been ANY sign she had shown interest romantically in any character - I would not be saying this. But she has not shown that for anyone, let alone for Azriel.

Gwyn is going to eventually heal. But she does not need a man to do so. She does not need to play sidekick to Azriel and help him handle his so called "darkness" to heal.

Y'all can't just force her into a ship when she's clearly not ready for a relationship. Well, I suppose you can, but that would be disrespectful to SA victims everywhere.

Fictional character or not, SA trauma is real. Forcing this timeline of healing on Gwyn or shipping her with someone just so she can "fix him" or suit his "sexual freak" nature is just downright ignorant.

If y'all like Gwynriel because you think the aesthetic is cute or you think they'd compliment each other - that is fine. But this dialogue of Gwyn is gonna fix him and she and Azriel HAVE to be together because some half-baked statement from Azriel's POV - it's so weird.

Stop shipping women with people they have shown no interest in. Same goes for people shipping Elain with Lucien, when she loses her boldness around him and shrinks into herself.

Literally the moment SJM shows Gwyn is ready and likes Azriel or Elain suddenly gives Lucien the time of day out of her own free will, I will fully accept and understand the other ships.

But for now, I am shipping the couple that has actually shown desire and attraction and affection for each other. Just my opinion, and I'm not entertaining any arguments on this.

#elriel #elain archeron #azriel #acotar #elain x azriel #pro elain #elain #antielucien #antigwynriel

[tikvin]

While y'all waiting on your sketches and Eshra's "in game" dialogues lemme talk about Vice for a sec, because I love them with my whole being and unhealthily obsessed.

BG3 SPOILERS AHEAD

VICE (he/they/it)

Mechanically, spore druid, flavouring him as just some disgusting necromancing swamp devil, not actually tying him to any circles or balance obsessed folk.

Vice is quite emotionless and blunt, some would say even cruel. "When you out of my sight — you don't exist" type of person. So far, the only durge who flat out made conscious decision to kill Karlach, as he couldn't care less that she's just a tiefling, if that what Wyll's mission is, then he better do it and quit whining (tbf if Vice met Karlach first then Wyll would be the one dying, I just forgot that was a possibility lol.) Vice just doesn't care much for negotiations in these confrontations. They have a passive attitude when it comes to confrontations with his companions, he's more amused than anything, when he's being threatened, suddenly feeling strangely confident and patronizing, as if intentionally provoking to bigger conflict. It probably would get better in act 3, but right now he's quite an asshole.

I wouldn't say he isn't capable of understanding emotions and moral dilemmas, but he's driven mostly by his own whims and wants. He recognizes when he killed without any good reason, but he doesn't necessarily feel bad about his kills. He might do or not do something just because he feels like it, even if he knows it might hurt someone, he doesn't care, unless it's someone deeply close to him or someone he is very curious about, which is hard to achieve.

He haven't got there yet with him, but considering how his relationships with Shadowheart look rn — she's in quite dangerous area with the whole nightsong deal, as Vice couldn't give two shits about her (or anyone else's) secrets and just doesn't ask companions about their lives until they speak about it themselves. So Shadowheart haven't got a chance to tell him anything about her worship or herself. That makes her distant to him, which makes him not give much of a shit, considering nightsong is not only the key for Thorm's immortality but also a potential strong ally. The attempt to kill Lae'Zel also doesn't do Shadowheart any favours in Vice's eyes, as he enjoys company of those who are more straightforward like Lae'Zel, because if you want something from him — you better tell as it is, and not dance around the subject. That is why he's most close to Minthara and Lae'Zel, while being more prickly to Gale, Shadowheart and Jaheira.

Vice is yet another durge who doesn't care much about their lust for blood, nor concerned by their own actions. The only thing he strongly doesn't like about it is losing control, but he is curious about his past.

Concept of romantic relationship is a bit alien to him, as is any sexual relationships. Yet again, it's not like he's not capable, considering how it is with Bhaal, I'd say Vice probably was a huge horndog before amnesia, but after the incident he just didn't give much of a thought to it, since there are bigger problems at hand. His level of understanding the romance will actually depend on if he kills Isobel or not. If Vice won't do it, and my favourite durge camp scene happens — Vice will be kinda pushed to think about it for a moment, when Skeletaris make comments on whatever companion that will be. That would make him dig deeper into his everyday time with that companion and consider what his feelings are and does he even have them.

If Vice kills Isobel and gets power — he gets more emotionless and aloof, mindless killing will be much easier, just like it would be easier to betray close friends for power or just for his own fun. (And the latter even Minthara won't approve of, considering her opinion on killing without purpose).

Would've probably went with the whole Bhaal biz if it wasn't for losing control over his body (After Karessa, he unconsciously grown to absolutely despise any sort of helplessness and lack of control over his own body). So he most likely will be the most questionable "redeemed" dark urge.

#original character #oc #durge oc #durge #bg3 dark urge #dark urge #tiefling

[nereidprinc3ss]

ok LOVED the ask about dybmn!spence headcanons … to add on to that (& please correct me if i’m wrong!!! i don’t mind at all if your opinion is diff than mine hehe) but i wonder if/feel like spence would get sort of condescending? like as reader gets more comfortable with herself you know? & never in an awful way but i think just leaning a little more into the power dynamics? like back in part 1 where he asks if it’s too much she says no and he goes “no of course it isn’t. you’ll just take whatever i give you won’t you” or smth like that and that part had me kicking my feet LOL like he’s not being inappropriate or playing on her insecurities but it’s just something i think fits! also in a couple of your other fics even if they don’t belong in this universe but like in relax (which is my favorite thing you’ve written btw ily) she says it’s too much and he goes “no it’s not” and essentially you can take it and. SQUEALS like it’s not in a gross way but it’s like deliciously condescending #toME idk maybe this is purely self indulgent but i do think that it’s something he would be into. like the “you can take it” OR OMG when he makes her use her words. DIES omg this is so long and all over the place i hope this made sense LOL but either way again i loved you expanding on the headcanons so much … love to hear what’s going on inside the perfect brain that brings us all these fics LOL kisses babe

i love you anon god bless the asteroid that killed the dinosaurs who turned into the fossils that created the oil that became the gas that fueled the car that drove your mother to the hospital on the day you were born

more 18+ ramblings

i’ve always thought that spencer has a mean side. and i don’t mean that as in classic degradation but as you said condescension. i think in the dybmn universe he’s been holding himself in check a lot, much more than we realize, because he doesn’t wanna overwhelm the reader or accidentally make her feel bad about herself because he knows she’s still fragile at this point. but it definitely sneaks into the way he speaks to her sometimes, like as you said in part one, and it’s definitely pretty clear in his thoughts in part three. and it’s like this weird dissonant motivation where on the one hand he wants her to know it’s okay to not think so fucking hard all the time and to just let him take care of her and on the other he genuinely wants to cultivate her ability to stand up for herself during sex and tell him what she wants. like when he says he wants her words he really wants her words, he wants to make sure she’s engaged and present and she doesn’t have to be eloquent but he does expect a response of some sort.

and then some of it is just because he likes seeing how desperate she gets for him like….. use your words or ask for what you want or whatever are all said with the same unspoken messages which are you’re a grown up so act like it or remember how smart you were five minutes ago or it’s so cute when i let you talk back to me and we pretend like i can’t fix your attitude the second i decide im sick of it

like he just really gets off on the implicit control he has over her, not because he has to forcibly take it but because she hands it to him and she trusts him with it and he LOVES being trusted, he wants to make sure she knows he’ll never break her trust and he’ll always take care of her even if he’s sometimes a little mean😁 he just loves reader BAD

but ya at the root of all the condescension is just a lot of genuine adoration probably because he’s sooooo whipped it’s sickening truly

#asks #ramblings #actually i might be IN love with you

[beautifulpersonpeach]

I was a bit surprised to see that mhj specifically said that newjeans had approved the statement saying that belift had copied newjeans' concept with illit. I'm not the type of person that thinks that you're a bitch for asserting position or your value, so this isn't where I'm coming from, but, especially in an industry where it's so rare to see groups say anything negative about other groups, particular junior groups I would think, it was quite the strong, swift position to take. Do you foresee newjeans continuing to engage publicly with this scandal, and how would you think taking an active part in this would affect their brand?

*

Ask 2:

bp in your opinion is there any chance that in this Hybe/MHJ situation there's a buried kind of double-blind motivation?

Like the kind i've seen attributed to E|on Musk, where he creates a big scandal to provide cover when he's doing something much shadier (and then maybe it gets out of hand, like the TwiX thing lol)

You've said you're pretty familar with the corporate side machinations - could Hybe be purposefully airing all this, sure to stick it to MHJ, but also to temporarily drive down stock prices for idk easy shares-repurchasing? Or even allowing a mess they can blame for having to report lower numbers to shareholders for whatever reason: boycott actually impacting profit, hedging against lower-than-predicted bts returning numbers, etc.

Or is this too convoluted of conspiracy thinking and BPD/HYBE/MHJ, and by extension from your recent posts basically 'corporate kpop' entire, are really just that transparent and petty?

*

Ask 3:

Might be a stupid question because I honestly don't have any clue about corporate businesses and how they work. But in the light of this scandal and how BigHit/Hybe developed over the last years: would you say this is what you get when you become too greedy instead of concentrating on what you were good at?

*

Ask 4:

in your opinion, is mhj truly an indispensable part of newjeans creative output? Also, do you see any way that hybe would let newjeans leave with its name and discography if they try to break their contract to go with mhj like some people are saying?

*

Ask 5:

I’m seeing a lot of discussion about whether newjeans will try to leave with mhj and break their contract with hybe, but I don’t see this as a realistic scenario, and I especially don’t see hybe letting them leave with their name and discography. You mentioned that there are a limited set of options now, but is this even one of them? In my mind, newjeans as a concept either stays at hybe, with or without mhj in whatever capacity, or can’t really exist legally

*

Ask 6:

Also this has given everyone (kpop stans, ARMYs, journalists) the go ahead to drag Newjeans in order to "defend" Illit, BTS, Riize, etc by throwing (again) dozens of plagiarism accusations and trying to discredit everything the group has done and achieved. And it was started by Hybe themselves... I have no words, bpp

***

I think these six asks capture most of the talking points in the asks I've received since yesterday, so I'll use these to answer your questions.

The sheer amount of spin happening in the media right now is ridiculous lmaoo. With the mention of BTS in the "escape files", ARMYs have predictably moved from shady bystanders to actively joining in the negative spin, spreading rumor articles and many are now attacking the girls themselves. But honestly, this is nothing less than what I expected. NewJeans is the most popular group in Korea, the 2nd most valuable IP only behind BTS, and Min Heejin is the brains behind the operation - an achievement she's insisted on taking full credit for since inception. Leaving the only option for whoever is masterminding this from within and outside HYBE, to destroy her reputation as an executive completely to diminish her value to outside investors, and weaken the fan support for NewJeans given how closely they are already associated with MHJ. And that's what is happening. It impacts every group at HYBE and nearly obliterates the viability of NewJeans.

For HYBE, it's a tolerable loss given there's only one year left before BTS returns and closes that earnings gap in mere months. Whoever took this action sees it simply as resulting in a numerical loss that can be soon corrected, but personally, I disagree, for the same reasons I objected to HYBE's acquisition of SM even though on paper it made numerical sense.

Anon in ask 1: I can understand your surprise but sad as it is to say, I expected that response from MHJ. She's a creative, not a PR exec or an MBA-credentialled suit. I'm not sure how familiar you are with ADOR's press releases in general, but anybody who reads them can tell there's almost no corporate doublespeak, no vague allusions, nothing that shows it's written by a typical media-trained PR person. Which is why most people, including you, take that statement to mean NewJeans agrees with MHJ that Illit copied them (it's a possibility), when in reality the language shows it could refer to them agreeing with MHJ's assertion that HYBE hasn't duly responded to her requests about inter-label discrimination, or other related matters. That's the kind of detail a trained PR person would be sure to include, to minimize the fallout to NJ, but just as with the press release on Cookie, the one on Minji's rival sasaeng, the response to Hyein's veneer rumours, and practically every press release ADOR has put out, the language is unsophisticated.

"Do you foresee newjeans continuing to engage publicly with this scandal, and how would you think taking an active part in this would affect their brand?"

NewJeans has so far not engaged publicly with this scandal. MHJ has mentioned them to signal any separation between them will likely be contested. It's leverage. If they do take an active part in this scandal, it will completely destroy their brand. Like, it's already on life support. Anything more and we might as well say their last rites.

*

Anon in ask 2: I'd say that's not a conspiracy exactly but it is kinda pushing it. Anytime there's a stock dip it's a buying opportunity, and HYBE is always guaranteed to be a Buy so long as BTS is slated to return within 12 months of the stock event. But we simply don't have any clear indications that's the case now given the timing doesn't quite line up. If anything, that is more like the 4th order side-effect.

And yeah, people on the corporate side, not just in k-pop, are many times just that petty. But it's also true this case has been sensationalized in particular ways to appeal to k-pop stans specifically.

*

Anons in ask 4 & 5: The options available are:

MHJ leaves HYBE and NewJeans stays in HYBE

MHJ leaves HYBE and NewJeans leaves with her

MHJ stays in HYBE but is demoted from her exec role and NewJeans stays in HYBE

MHJ stays in HYBE and keeps her exec role and NewJeans stays in HYBE

None of these options are good, but the worst of these evils is option 2. If the members attempt to leave with her, there's no pretty way to say this, but they'll be done. I'm not even going to waste time writing all the ways HYBE and k-pop stans as a whole will rip them to shreds, all I'll say is that whoever is attached to these girls should consider taking a 6 months sabbatical away from k-pop entirely once that news breaks. The law is not on their side and public opinion, especially after all the 'leaks' and spin from HYBE in the last 72 hours, certainly isn't on their side either. It would be career suicide.

"in your opinion, is mhj truly an indispensable part of newjeans creative output?"

Personally, I think yes. Every label at HYBE had similar initial monetary investment as NewJeans and ADOR had, and other groups from the Big 3 have had even bigger investments and resources at their disposal. There isn't a single group, both within HYBE and outside HYBE, that has yielded the same results as NewJeans in the same period of time. Illit comes close, but even with their achievements they haven't reached the same (positive) notoriety as NewJeans did at debut. All HYBE groups have access to HYBE's youtube channel, connections and resources, and yet the achievements of BOYNEXTDOOR, LE SSERAFIM, ENHYPEN, and even ILLIT, are nowhere near comparable to that of NewJeans. And I agree with MHJ that she's the primary reason why. Having access to resources is only one part of the equation. How you allocate those resources and what you do with it is far more important, and this is where MHJ and ADOR excels relative to other sub-labels.

NewJeans without MHJ will not be nearly as threatening to everyone else in k-pop, and I suspect this is one reason there have been calls for her to be removed from managing the group since their debut.

*

Anons in ask 3 & 6: Yeah there's a fair bit of greed on show here. Generally, for a lot of people in this industry, greed is good... unless the greedy person is a woman. Because the only thing more central to nasty corporate tussles like this, more than greed, is ego.

I'm not trying to play the gender card, but sometimes I do wonder why there are no articles like this about people like Jaden Jeong and Simon Jakob given the reputation those men have in corporate circles, where top officials (in this case, within HYBE) are saying they cannot possibly work with MHJ because she is "overly and excessively opinionated". I'm highlighting this article because despite the initial paragraphs of spin, that bit is the only thing consistent with MHJ's claim that this attack from HYBE started because she'd filed a whistleblowing report on toxic inter-label competition and followed up an email that said quote:

"..is this deliberate obtuseness and unapologetic behaviour consistent with HYBE's founding philosophy of rebelling against unfair practices in the entertainment industry?"

I mean... in corporate Korea, I can see how they were sick of her shit and it was only a matter of time before she got the boot.

The insidious thing about spin is that it mixes the truth with lies, making it easy for people to accept it wholly. It's entirely possible that MHJ wants more compensation, more autonomy and independence, feels that Belift and other companies borrowed her ideas without full credit, and that she was unsupported by HYBE HQ. It's entirely possible that she took actions such as monitoring fan feedback of the group(s) she suspects and filing a whistleblowing report to build a case - according to both MHJ and others at HYBE, these are complaints she's apparently had since last year, but none of those things would justify HYBE's response nor is it enough to turn people against her.

What I find particularly interesting about this case, is that everything that decisively incriminates her of the more sensational and sinister allegations, comes from the person of VP L or CEO A - a person who only joined ADOR in January 2024, shortly after which HYBE received their first tip-off that MHJ was planning to escape. It's VP L who titles documents with the equivalent of "TOP SECRET DO NOT TOUCH" on company computers... the same guy that's supposedly a double agent working in favour of MHJ and ADOR but is situated within ADOR, not HYBE, where simple logic shows he'd be most useful. Unless he's situated right where he's supposed to be.

Anyway...

HYBE has requested for a shareholder meeting on April 30th where they'll likely table the motion for MHJ to resign regardless of what's found in the audit. Far as I know, she's completed the audit questionnaire but not surrendered her laptop as HYBE has requested. Given the play is for HYBE to kick her out while continuing to manage NJ, I can see how she'd rather die than surrender her laptop and hand over her ideas (and potentially incriminating info) to HYBE on a silver platter for them to use in her wake.

Every way this shakes out is bad news for HYBE groups IMO. So long as NewJeans keeps quiet and sides with HYBE, they'll be somewhat okay. But regardless of the fallout from HYBE cannibalizing itself, all HYBE groups have no choice but to take it on the chin and bide their time until BTS comes back to capture the attention back to them.

I hope I answered all your questions. IMO there's really no point talking more about this until there's a firm conclusion.

#min heejin #newjeans #ador #hybe #bang pd #kpop #kpop industry #kpop business #belift

[scoobydoodean]

just saw somebody saying that cas is a pushover for dean…. obviously that’s not true. but can i have some solid evidence just to make me feel more sane?

I mean Cas's baseline state is ignoring what anyone wants him to do imo. It's just when he ignores what most people want him to do, he makes this face: 🙄

And when he ignores what Dean wants him to do, he makes this this face. 🥺

But anyway:

"You should show me some respect. I dragged you out of Hell. I can throw you back in." (4.02)

ANNA: "Uhm, guys, the angels are talking again. / SAM: What are they saying? / ANNA: It's weird. Like a recording. A loop. It says: "Dean Winchester gives us Anna by midnight, or we hurl him back to damnation." (4.10)

"[I tricked you into coming into town] Because whatever I ask [for you to turn an innocent person over to me for execution], you seem to do the exact opposite [protect them from me]." (4.15)

After kidnapping Dean to make him torture for them: "This is too much to ask, I know. But we have to ask it." (4.16)

[Kidnaps Dean and locks him up] (4.22)

[Flies away abruptly because Dean asks a question he doesn't want to answer] (5.01)

"I killed two angels this week. My brothers. I'm hunted. I rebelled. And I did it, all of it, for you, and you failed. You and your brother destroyed the world—and I lost everything, for nothing. So keep your opinions to yourself." (5.02) (Note: Cas blaming Dean for everything going wrong here is also some major bullshit).

CASTIEL: May I borrow [your amulet]? / DEAN: No. / CASTIEL: Dean. Give it to me. / DEAN: All right, I guess. (5.02)

Cas flies off to kill Jesse when Dean and Sam are in direct moral opposition. (5.06)

ANNA: I'd say the Winchesters don't trust me. / CASTIEL: They do. I don't. I wouldn't let them come. (5.13)

You're not gonna finish that? [Takes Dean's burger without waiting for an answer] (5.14)

[Kidnaps Dean and locks him up] (5.18)

"Maybe they're desperate. Maybe they wrongly assumed Dean would be brave enough to withstand them." (5.18)

[Beats the shit out of Dean in an alley] "I rebelled for this?! So that you could surrender to them?" [kidnaps Dean and locks him up again] (5.18)

DEAN: Whoa, wait. You’re gonna take on five angels? / CASTIEL: Yes. / DEAN: Isn’t that suicide? / CASTIEL: Maybe it is. But then I won’t have to watch you fail. 

CASTIEL: You think I came because you called? I came because of this. [The Staff of Moses] / DEAN: Oh, well, it's nice to know what matters. / CASTIEL: It does help one to focus. (6.03)

CASTIEL: I need your help. / SAM: [ Scoffs. ] That's rich. Really. / CASTIEL: [ Grunts, tosses the jar of locusts at SAM. CASTIEL performs air quotes during this speech. ] Sam, Dean, my "people skills" are "rusty." Pardon me, but I have spent the last "year" as a multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent. But believe me, you do not want that weapon down here. Help me find it. Or more people will die.

[Flies away abruptly when Dean asks anything he doesn't want to answer] (6.03)

Cas tortures a child while Dean pleads with him not to do it (6.03).

[Yanks Dean's wrist over without asking and slices his palm open to use his blood for a spell] DEAN: Whoa, whoa! Hey! Ahh! Why don't you use your own? / CASTIEL: It wouldn't work. I'm not human.

[Flies away abruptly when Dean is mid-sentence] (6.06)

Cas ghosts Dean for days while Dean pleads for help in prayers (6.05-6.06)

Those are some moments of note up to my current rewatch episode.

Less organized but past current rewatch point some random momence:

The entire plot of season 6 where Cas is going behind their backs the whole time culminating in him refusing to let go of his plan while Dean pleads him to do just that.

Fun lil Deancas bitchy compilation set here

[Beats the shit out of Dean flies away with the angel tablet]

Refuses to come out of Purgatory

Ignores Dean's nightly prayers in Purgatory

Ignores Dean's prayers and calls all of the tiiiiiiiime sometimes for weeks

Locking Dean in the dungeon... again. (S9)

DEAN: I'm glad you're here / CAS: *Leaves* (10.03)

Keeping Demon Dean from doing demon things :(((( (10.03)

Works with Sam to decode the Book of the Damned behind Dean's back.

CAS: No fighting. / DEAN: Tell [Claire] that. / CAS: Both of you.

"YEAH you know what I like about him? It's that he's sarcastic, but he's THOUGHTFUL and APPRECIATIVE too."

"If I plan to do anything else stupid, I'll let you know."

CAS: So I should just sit here? / DEAN: Pretty much. / CAS: NO.

[Look of utter loathing] "Dean. You are NOT a talking dog." (13.16)

"At least I don't look like a lumberjack."

Steals The Colt to kill Kelly Kline when Sam and Dean want to save her -> Does a 180 into wanting to protect Kelly and still won't include Sam and Dean, instead knocking them unconscious (12.19)

Locks Sam and Dean out of the dungeon so he can torture Donatello for information (13.14)

Also: #hot girl cas. And anyway, if Cas decreases his bitchy basline tendencies to be bitchy around Dean and Dean only, and instead indulges him occasionally by doing things like dressing up like cowboys, we should be fond of this because the angel the size of a Chrysler building who has killed thousands lets Dean put him in little outfits to make him happy and there is something very cute about that.

#and cas is my best friend #mail #hot girl cas