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youvebeenlivingfictional · 1 month

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The Other Half Part Twenty Six

Previous Part | Masterlist

Notes: Okay. After some very careful consideration and soul-searching, this is going to be the last official chapter of The Other Half. I'll still welcome asks, and writing prompt fills if I post/reblog them, but this is the end of the official series. I love Shop Girl and Bruce, and I think I'm leaving them in a good place; I hope you all feel the same.

Thank you as always for indulging my silly stories, and thank you for following me through this unexpected fic journey 💗💗

Warnings: Just smut and fluff.

Summary: You so rarely get to see Bruce this way—relaxed, calm, content…At least, you hope he’s content. Maybe his mind is racing with concern, with curiosity. You know that Bruce has a love and concern for Gotham. Sometimes you worry that you may never equal it.

But the city can’t love Bruce the way you do. It won’t take him into its arms, won’t bandage his wounds or lay awake worrying for him at night.

“Do I get a head start?”

Bruce chuckles at your question as he pulls the car up in front of the mansion.

“Depends. How far do you think you’ll be able to get?”

You hum as you consider, tipping your head from side to side.

“The first landing.” You realize as soon as you say it that there’s absolutely no way you’ll make it that far in your new shoes. Bruce seems to know it, too, his brows jumping as he nods.

“The first landing…And what do I get if I catch you?”

“Well, that’s up to you."

"Fine. Ten seconds—”

“Wait a minute.”

“What?”

“What if I make it without you catching me?”

Bruce tips his head a touch, a smug smile curling his lips and sending a thrill zipping through you.

“Ten seconds,” He reiterates without answering your question.

“Just ten?”

“...Nine—”

“Shit!” You scramble to undo your seat belt, hurrying out of the car as you hear Bruce turn it off. You fumble with your key, shoving the heavy door open and moving as quickly as you dare in your new heels, heading up the steps of the grand staircase. Your stomach flips as you hear the door close behind you, but you don’t dare turn to look. You make it up the first few steps, heart ticking up in your chest as you hear Bruce’s footsteps quick and gain on you. You’re three steps from your target—

You shriek as Bruce’s arms hook around your middle, easing you to a stop as your fingers just miss the first landing. Your giggling is marred by your heavy panting as Bruce presses more heavily against you, easing the two of you down against the steps.

“So fucking close,” You manage.

“With a head start.” Bruce’s reminder is chased by a kiss to your shoulder. His hands smooth over your hips as you gently twist in his arms to face him, scooching back onto the landing. Bruce’s lips are on yours in a second, slipping tenderly against them. You draw your knees up to cradle his hips, groaning as he presses closer. His hands slip under your dress, easing the skirt higher. You swallow thickly, sucking in a nervous breath as his kisses drift to your neck.

“Bruce—”

“Mm.”

“Alfred—?”

“He’s at the penthouse.”

You let yourself relax at that, relieved that you won’t have to worry about him wandering by or hearing you. You bite your lip as Bruce’s hands smooth up your inner thighs, tipping your hips up as his fingers hook in the seat of your panties, exposing your heated flesh to cool air. You shiver as he brushes his knuckle gently against your plumping lips, his eyes growing dark as his gaze sweeps up your front.

He leans back, pushing your thighs wide with his broad shoulders. He eases your panties more tightly to the side, the lace pushing almost harshly against the crease of your hip. He holds your gaze as he leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your mound. His kisses drift lower, his tongue teasing at your slit. Each touch has a hint more pressure than the last.

Your eyelids flutter, and you let your head tip back, lowering yourself against the rug on the landing. Bruce draws one of your legs up over his shoulders, baring you to him more fully. His tongue strokes your clit for a few moments before he delves lower, groaning softly at the taste of you. Your toes curl in your shoes as Bruce laps broadly across your pussy. He never settles, tongue and fingers stretching and teasing you until you’re shaking, grinding down into his touch.

Your whimpers and moans echo in the cavernous front hall as curls and twists his fingers, pushing you closer to your release. You finally cum with a shout, back arching as your hips bound against him. Bruce only draws away when you gently push at his forehead, his sucking kisses against your clit turning to a gentle nuzzle against your inner thigh.

You sigh softly as he draws his hand away, standing. You reach up, palming his hard cock beneath his trousers. He groans, taking hold of your hand and tugging you up.

“Lemme—”

“Not here.”

“Bruce," You pout.

“Don’t worry,” He leads the way toward the stairs. “I’m not done with you yet.”

“I don’t get another head start?”

“Do you really think you can outrun me after that?” Bruce asked, throwing you a knowing glance over his shoulder. You smiled guiltily, giggling as he grins.

“...You still awake back there?” You mumble. It’s a few long moments before Bruce lets out a soft, hazy hum, his arms tightening around your middle as he cuddles closer, nuzzling between your shoulder blades. You smile, rolling over to face him. His eyes are closed, hair mussed from where you had grasped and tugged it. Your body feels almost syrupy as you move against him. You’d been certain that he’d get up and check on the news once the two of you were through, but he’d stayed true to his word, cuddling up in bed even after you had gotten cleaned up.

You raise a hand, gently stroking his cheek. He hums, face tipping up into the caress. You know that you’re going to need to savor this while you have it. You so rarely get to see Bruce this way—relaxed, calm, content…At least, you hope he’s content. Maybe his mind is racing with concern, with curiosity. You know that Bruce has a love and concern for Gotham. Sometimes you worry that you may never equal it.

But the city can’t love Bruce the way you do. It won’t take him into its arms, won’t bandage his wounds or lay awake worrying for him at night.

Your hand settles on his jaw, thumb sweeping across his cheekbone. You smile as he turns his head, pressing a kiss to your palm.

But the city isn’t held by Bruce the way you are, either.

“Thank you,” You murmur. Bruce’s eyes blink open slowly, fixing on you as he smiles sleepily.

“For what?”

“For today. For…Everything,” You shake your head a little. “Everything that you do, and are, I just…Thank you.”

Bruce leans in, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. His hands skim up your back, drawing you into his chest, legs tangling together as if you can fuse to one another.

“Today was good?” He mumble buzzes against your lips, and you grin.

“Today was amazing and you know it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Anything that could’ve made it better?”

You consider for a moment, gaze lowering to his chest. Michelle’s prediction rattles in your mind, and you can’t help but wonder…But—

“No—”

“What’s that face for?”

You can’t sneak anything by him.

“Nothing.”

“...Baby,” He plies softly. You sigh, shaking your head.

“It’s not—It’s just something Mish said.”

“What’d she say?”

“...She thought you were going to propose.”

Bruce doesn’t lean away like you expect him to. His hands just continue their gentle circles against your back.

“Did you think I was going to?” He asks.

“No.”

“Do you want me to?”

It’s a fair question; it’s something the two of you have neglected to discuss since your fight. And as happy as you are in this moment with Bruce, you know that it isn’t a true representation of your relationship. You’ve had as many lows as you’ve had highs, and the lows have been devastating.

“...I don’t know,” You admit. You hear Bruce draw a deep breath in through his nose, and you see him nod a little out of the corner of your eye.

“Okay.”

You don’t ask if he wants to. You don’t think you could handle the answer just now, either way.

“Well,” Bruce does let go of you then, reaching over and opening his bedside drawer, “There was one more thing I meant to give you today. Before you get jumpy, it isn’t a ring, but it is something special.” You push yourself to sit up as Bruce scooches back, holding out a velvet jewelry box. Your brow furrows as you take hold of it. You give him a guarded, nervous look before you open it. Your stomach flips, and tears prickle at your eyes when you catch sight of your discarded lariat necklace. You haven’t seen it since you ripped it off and called him a coward, and you’d been certain you would never see it again. But there’s something different about it than you remember.

You reach down, trailing your finger over the strand and coming to stop just above another jewel.

“...I thought—”

“It was a diamond,” Bruce nods, “But…” He reaches out, gingerly lifting the necklace out of the box and fastening it around your neck. “I wanted to give it a personal touch.”

“What do you mean?”

Bruce traces his finger along the silver, brushing against the dangling emerald before he gently slides his fingers beneath the new addition.

“This was one of my mother’s pearls.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, you can’t move or breathe or think. Bruce’s gaze flits to your face, sweeping your no doubt stunned expression.

“I thought about proposing tonight,” He admits, “But I think we need more time. That doesn’t mean that I can’t make you a promise—a promise to be honest with you. A promise to love and cherish you for the rest of our lives. A promise to come home to you every night.” Bruce raises his hand, curling his fingers around your trembling jaw. “To keep my temper out of it, to push through the hard things with you instead of running from you—running from us. And to fight for this as hard as I fight for Gotham—and harder, when I need to.”

#Bruce Wayne x Reader #Bruce Wayne x You #Bruce Wayne/Reader #Bruce Wayne/You #Bruce Wayne fic #Bruce Wayne imagine #The Other Half

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footballfanficwriter · 1 month

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Absent Father

Summary:where the reader is about to give birth and Jude is not home

"When are you going to be back?" I ask as I watch him pack his bag

"In a couple of months Love" he says

"Oh"

"But don't worry it'll be over before we know it"

"Can't you pull out of the squad and say you've got an injury or something"

"You know I can't do that, they'll examine my body to check my story out"

I sigh

"Hey, it's not that bad, we'll call eachother and face time, we're gonna be ok"

"You sound like you're trying to convince yourself"

"I'm trying to convince the both of us"

"Jude you know that I'm due any day now right"

"I know"

"And you won't be there by my side holding my hand or getting to witness the birth of your child" I say trying to hold back my tears

"I know baby, and I'm sorry"

"Sometimes I wish you were Just Jude Bellingham, not Jude Bellingham the Real Madrid and England Star

He stops packing and looks at me

"Sometimes I wish that as well darling, but that's not how it is"

"Yeah, I'm going to the kitchen to make a snack"

"Ok"

I leave the room and walk to the kitchen to make something to eat

As I'm busy I hear Jude come down the stairs with his bag

He places it down and walks up to me and towers over me, places a kiss on my forehead and bends down to kiss my belly

"I have to go" he says as he stands up

I come in for a hug and hug him very tightly as if by doing so I can just pause time and stop it from moving

He hugs me tightly as well indicating he doesn't wanna let go

As we're hugging the tears start coming out and I don't even try to fight them this time, i'm silently crying, and pretty sure my tears have now stained his shirt

He pulls away, looks me in the eyes and wipes the tears from my face

"I love you"

He kisses my forehead one more time walks to his bag and heads for the door where his driver waits for him

A week later:

I'm lying on the sofa watching a series that I'm not really paying attention to, all I'm thinking about is how scared I am and how I won't have anyone in the delivery room with me, and the person that I do want to be there is in another country

It's been difficult to talk and Face time with Jude, because he's either very busy or he's too tired to talk, if he's not training, he's doing press, if it's not press it's games, if it's not games he's out with his teammates, there's just always something happening and it makes me wonder if he's trying to avoid me, because if he wasn't ignoring me then he would at least make the time to try and talk to me, it's always me reaching out and calling him but he never does the same

The only interactions we have nowadays is when he posts something and I like and comment under his post and he'll just reply to my comment

I honestly don't know what to do but I just keep telling myself that he's busy and can't talk

I stand up and walk upstairs to get my phone to check if I've gotten any call from Jude

The minute I grab my phone from my bed there's a warm liquid that I feel on my legs

I look down and see water on the floor

I start freaking out a bit but then compose myself and walk to my wardrobe to grab my bag

And walk downstairs and get into the car and start driving to the hospital

When I arrive at the hospital I ask the receptionist for my doctor, but she tells me that in order to see her I have to have an appointment

"Lady listen to me, I'm a Pregnant Woman that's about to give birth, are you really gonna tell me to wait to see my Doctor?"

"I'm sorry I was not aware, I'll go get her"

She walks down a passage and makes a left knocking on a door, 2 minutes later she returns with Doctor Ashley Johnson

"Mrs. Bellingham, what are you doing here?, Where's is your Husband?"

"On a business Trip" I say breathing heavily

"Can someone get this woman a wheelchair?"

A few minutes later I'm in a hospital gown and walking around my hospital room trying to Dilate myself enough to give birth to this baby and Doctor Johnson holding my hand

"So where is your husband?"

"He's away, on a Business trip"

"Your Mother?"

"We don't really get along, let's just say she's not happy with the decisions I made in my life"

"Like?"

"Marring my Husband"

"What's wrong with him?"

"Nothing, she just didn't want me to marry someone who is from a different country number one and from a different culture"

"Your mother in law?"

"She moved back to England to be with my Father in law and brother in law"

"Siblings?"

"They are all married and even if I were to call them they are too far away"

"So I guess it's just you and me then" she says

I nod my head realizing that no one from my family is actually coming

"Yep"

After 10 hours of walking around and trying to Dilate Doctor Johnson informs me that I'm ready to give birth

She calls the rest of her team to come and assist and after two hours

A baby Boy is born

My body is tired and I just feel absolutely exhausted

"Mrs. Bellingham, we're going to clean your baby boy, you just get some rest we'll bring him right back"

"Ok" I say falling asleep

The next day I wake up feeling much better than the previous day, I turn my head to see my baby sleeping peacefully and Doctor Johnson walks into the room

"Hi, how are we doing in here?"

"We're ok, he's asleep"

"Have you spoken to your family yet?"

"No, I haven't, I'll wait for him to wake up first, then I'll make calls"

"And a name, have you decided on a name yet?"

"No I wanna call my husband first then we'll discuss it"

"Ok"

Doctor Johnson stays with me for some time until the baby wakes up

"I'll leave you to it then"

"Thank you"

I grab my phone and the first people I call are my Four sisters

They all get excited and squeal as they see the baby for the first time

"What's his name?" One of them ask

"I don't know, I'm gonna call Jude and we'll talk about it"

"Aww, he's so cute"

"Thank you"

"Congratulations sis, we're so proud of you, we wish we could be there"

I shed some tears and tell them it's fine and that we'll all meet up eventually

The next person I call is Denise.

"Hello love"

"Hi Mom, you alright?"

"Yeah, how are you"

"Oh we're fine, but I have something to show you"

I slightly turn the phone to Show her the baby and she looks in shock

"Mark, Jobe come look"

After some time Mark and Jobe appear on the screen

"Oh God he's so adorable"

"Are you ok though love"

"Yeah, I will be" I say

"What's his name?"

"I still need to call Jude, then we'll discuss it, and then we'll let everyone know

"Ok love, take care of yourself ok"

"Ok"

"We love you"

"Love you too"

The next person I call is Jude, hoping he'll pick up but he doesn't instead he sends a text

Hubby: what's up?

Me: can you call, it's important

Hubby: what is it?

Me: Jude can you pls just answer your phone it's really important

Hubby: just text me, I'm busy rn

Me: with what?

Hubby: With Trent, Madders and Hendo

Me: so you can't just excuse yourself for some time, I'm telling you that this is important why are you being difficult?"

Hubby: no actually I can't excuse myself, we're playing UNO, and I'm losing like hell

Me: oh so you would rather play a game of UNO than to hear what I have to say?

Hubby: just text it to me, I'm sure it's not a big deal

Me: if you consider the fact that you have a son not important then Yeah, it's not important

Hubby: what 🤯 are you being serious, you game birth?

Me: yeah but don't let me stop you from your game, it's most definitely more important than the birth of your son

Hubby ❤

Calling...

I decline the call

Hubby: babe answer the phone

Me: The baby is asleep, I'll call you when he wakes up, if I answer it'll wake him up

Hubby: oh c'mon don't be like that

Me: I'll call you later, get back to your game

I place my phone next to me and admire my newly born baby boy who is fully awake

"Hey Babe, welcome to the world, I'm gonna love you so much more than anything in the world"

He only giggles and cuddles further into my arms and it makes me Coo

2 months later:

Today is the day Jude comes back and to say I'm excited is an understatement we never had the discussion of the Baby's name so I just decided it Myself

And I Decided on Jamie

Ever since Jamie's birth Jude has been calling a lot more often and calling to check on us every day, which is good because then he won't miss that many Moments

Jamie is growing so fast it feels like it was just yesterday when it was just the two of us cuddling in a hospital bed, now he can crawl

Jude should be landing in a few hours and Jamie and I are preparing something to have for dinner, hopefully Jude will be here in time for dinner

Jamie however is on top of the counter grabbing things and putting them in his mouth while I prepare dinner

After making dinner, I get Jamie cleaned up and into his pajamas

And I carry him downstairs where we'll sit and wait for Jude

I'm so excited because we're about to have our first dinner as a family also adding the fact that I haven't seen Jude in almost three months

20:00( 8pm)

Jamie and I are sitting in the dinning room waiting for Jude to come home

21:00( 9pm)

Jamie has fallen asleep on my chest

22:00 ( 10pm)

Jamie is now asleep in this crib and I'm waiting for Jude while doing the dishes and packing away all the table decor that I've put out

23:00 (11:00 pm)

Fast asleep in bed

00:00 ( 12:00pm)

01:00 am

The door to the house opens and I hear Jude walk up the stairs and towards our room, the door opens and I hear him sigh and take his clothes off leaving him in his trunks

He gets into bed and kisses my shoulder

"Hello my love" he says in a husky voice

"I know you're awake, you're a light sleeper, I know you heard me come in"

I shrug him off and try to make myself comfortable on the bed

"What's wrong, are you not going to greet back"

"Hi"

"Is that all I get?"

"Yeah"

"Why are you upset i haven't seen you in 2 months and the first time I come back you give me a cold shoulder?"

"Exactly we haven't seen eachother in 2 months, and you couldn't even get home on time for dinner like you promised"

"Oh, you know I thought I told you that I was gonna be late, because Trent wanted to party for a bit before we were all headed home because we wouldn't see eachother in a long time"

"Does Trent have a two month old baby boy who he hasn't seen ever since his birth and a wife who gave birth on her own waiting for him at home?"

"No"

"Do you?"

"Yes"

"So please explain to me because I must be losing my mind, you had two months, two months with these people "your sheriffs" to laugh and share moments, yet your two month old son has not even shared a single moment with you and you still put your teammates before him to make moments with them and you don't even have one with your son"

He is quiet

"So is it wrong for me to assume that from now on your international teammates and club teammates will forever be the first choice no matter what?"

"No babe, you and James are the most important thing in my life and will forever be my first"

"I can't even look at you right now"

"You were not there when he was born, when we were suppose to name him , i ended up naming him myself because I had to put something on the birth certificate, you weren't there when he started crawling and now you said the wrong name yet he's your son"

"Is his name not James?"

"If you had answered your phone on that day we would have named him together" I say getting out of bed and grabbing my gown

"And his name is Jamie" I say walking out of the room and walking to Jamie's room to sleep there

The next morning I'm woken up by Jamie's cries

I walk to him and pick him out of his crib and walk to the Kitchen to find Jude making Breakfast

"Morning babe"

"What are you doing?"

"Making breakfast, I'm making French toast, still your favorite right?"

"Yeah"

"Great, have a seat it'll be ready in just a few minutes"

Jamie lays his head on my shoulder as he looks at Jude almost as if he's asking who is the guy in our Kitchen making food

He's uncomfortable

"Hey it's ok, that's your dad" I whisper into his ear and kiss his head

I walk to the dinning table and put Jamie on my lap where he stares at me and shows his gums that are without teeth

I smile down at him and shower him with kisses and he giggles

In that moment Jude walks to us and almost immediately Jamie's head goes on my chest and he stops giggling

"Here you are"

"Thanks" I say

He takes a seat across me and looks at Jamie and sends him a small wave, but it only makes Jamie force himself further into my chest

Jude gives me a sad look and I look back at him

He clears his throat and breaks the uncomfortable silence

"So how have you been?"

"Fine, yeah I've been fine, you?"

"Yep same just really tired"

"Yeah"

The awkward silence is among us again and we eat in silence

"Fuck" he says under his breath

"How much have I missed?" He asks

"A lot more than you can imagine" I reply

"Baby, I am so sorry, when you said that I missed so much I didn't know you meant it like that to the point where my own son doesn't recognize me"

"Yeah"

"How can I make up for it?"

"I wouldn't know either Jude, Jamie is a baby, he doesn't comprehend what's happening, it not like you can just throw the words I'm sorry to him and he'll forgive you just like that"

"You're not helping, I'm asking for solutions not for you to make me feel worse than I already do"

"Well you wouldn't be feeling like this if you had been there number 1, if you had answered your phone so we could name him together and if you had made more time to talk to us"

"I called you every day"

"Did you call me when I was a week from giving birth, huh, when our only interaction would be on Social media where I was liking pictures and commenting and you were liking or replying to my comments"

"I called you guys every day, to find out how you were doing"

"For five minutes, you can't really say anything in five minutes"

"I was tired"

"But you were never too tired to go out with your teammates, right?, all that time you spent with them, could have been used to get to know your son, given how difficult it was to be there for him when he was born"

"So what, you wanted me to stay in my hotel room and be left out while everyone was enjoying themselves?"

"If you couldn't do it for me then you could have at least done it for Jamie, you were an absent father, and it's not my fault that after I tried to get you involved in his life and you refused and now he doesn't even know you"

He's quiet and just continues eating his food

After having breakfast Jamie and i walk to the Kitchen and i get started on the dishes while He sits next me with his favorite chew toy that keeps him behaving

Jude walks in

"Let me take him" he says

He goes to pick Jamie up and Jamie starts crying

I immediately leave the dishes and walk to them

"Here take over the dishes, I'll take him

"No it's fine, he'll be fine"

"No Jude let go of him, I need to feed him he hasn't been fed yet"

He let's go of Jamie and I walk to his room to feed him

After 2 hours Jamie falls asleep for his afternoon nap

And I walk to the living room to watch some TV only to find Jude watching TV

I take a seat and Jude pauses his show

"Is he ok?"

"Yeah, he's asleep"

"That's good"

"Mhm"

"Y/n, I'm sorry, I know that the past 2 months have not been easy for you and that you were scared when you had to give birth to Jamie, because I wasn't there for you both"

"It's fine, you were working"

"Yeah but that's not an excuse, I feel horrible, I feel like I'll never get to have a relationship with my son if things go on like this"

"Don't say that Jude, Jamie will get use to you, eventually, maybe not tomorrow or next week, but eventually"

"You were right, if I made the time then we wouldn't be here right now having this conversation"

"True, but you made a mistake and you are rectifying it, now you know what to do and what not to next time"

He smiles at me and I return the smile

"Thank you"

"You're welcome"

He scoots closer to me and places his arm around my shoulder and I lay my head on his

"I've missed you so much"

"I've missed you as well"

"Can you believe it, we're actually Parents now"

"Right, times like these are gonna be fewer, where it's just the two of us bringe watching Movies and series"

"That's true, we're gonna be so occupied, it's crazy"

"Yep"

"I love you"

"I love you too"

He kisses my forehead and unpause the show he was watching.

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silkscream · 3 months

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CHAPTER 7: TOO YOUNG TO GROW WINGS

ੈ✩ gojo satoru x reader, geto suguru x reader

He needed to learn how to stop being so goddamn obsessive. He’d work on it later, maybe. He’d try not to speak curses into existence from the way he felt about you.

At the moment, he wants to make this good for you. Something like love.

ੈ✩ chapter cw/tags: explicit content (18+ mdni) , unprotected sex, drunk sex, face sitting, blowjobs, cum eating (lol) lots and LOTS of angst, gore, blood, graphic descriptions of injuries, bullying, satoru being......... himself

ੈ✩ wc: 8.8k

ੈ✩ a/n: i wasnt gonna post this but then i was like well. i start a new job on monday so who knows if i'll be able to keep up the weekly update thing. this is also prob my fav chapter so i couldn't hold back OOPS enjoy the yaoi btw <3 title from angel by omar apollo

playlist ✸ read on ao3 ✸ series masterlist

April, 2009

Jujutsu Technical College looks lovely in the springtime—the golden light hits the room in a specific way that makes your body warm. You’re calm, nearly dozing off until three people barge into the classroom, taking up as much space as they can. When you open your eyes, you see Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko smiling at you as they take their seats.

The boys had convinced you to attend (with the help of Shoko) after informing you there was a generous stipend included with your education. Despite the scholarship you’d gotten from the college you’d meant to attend, they had easily persuaded you. You hadn’t had friends you were so close with before, after all.

“Suguru. Switch with her.”

“Huh?”

“Just do it. I want her to sit next to me.”

You lift your head, realizing that Satoru is talking about you. Suguru laughs nonchalantly and stands up to switch with you, and you move to replace him when you notice Satoru’s baby blues searing into your skin. He grins at you brightly as you roll your eyes.

It’s been like this for weeks – Satoru possessing you, claiming you, even though you never ask for it. Truthfully, it pools your stomach with ardor. You’ve never felt as wanted as you do when you were within a close radius of him.

It dwindles eventually when you realize that the boys’ strength is so far beyond yours. In combat, they’re flawless, beautiful in their movements as they spar. You’re happier to watch than join—Shoko thinks the same, often rolling her eyes every time the two of you are assigned to practice hauling cursed energy for the sake of fighting. It’s nice when you can get her alone, studying healing techniques and watching her reversed curse technique grow.

Sometimes, you don’t even know why you’re here. Shoko is talented and you aren’t. You’re useful enough for superficial wounds, but you can’t do a reversed cursed technique. You doubt you could even heal something of a higher caliber than what you’re used to. You fear the prospect of this revelation on a mission that you know Yaga will eventually send you on.

“Do they ever fight over you?” Shoko asks over a cigarette.

“Wh-what?”

“You know,” she drawls, smiling. “Satoru’s such a brat. Suguru is more open when you’re around. They’ve gotta be possessive, right?”

You shrug. You don’t know the extent of what she knows, but you can assume from the boys’ behavior that it was written all over their faces. Satoru’s hand on your waist, Suguru’s point to tower over you. Unspoken proximity wars between them with you in the middle.

“I don’t know about that. They’re overprotective for sure,” you admit, taking a slow drag of her cigarette when she offers.

“Twigs! Not you, too!” Satoru bellows. “Don’t give my girl your cancer sticks, Ieiri!”

Shoko laughs at that, grinning with the cigarette in between her teeth as you fold your hands into your lap.

My girl.

Satoru hovers over you and holds out his hands. Curiously, you take it, which you regret immediately when he pulls your body and hauls you over his shoulder. You thrash a bit as he laughs until you’re stumbling onto the grass. When Suguru throws a staff in your direction, you catch it reflexively.

“Ready?”

You roll your eyes. You’d gotten better at sparring, though you still choose to hang back and concern yourself with areas of Shoko’s expertise. She had become a mentor to you despite being a peer. Meanwhile, the boys had been trying to get you to practice combat, thinking you would do well with a cursed weapon.

You remember the first time you had tried to fight, watching Satoru and Suguru wrestle in the grass shortly after. Their raspy grunts, the skin of their waists underneath ridden-up shirts. The memory makes you flush.

“Yes,” you sigh.

You focus on Satoru’s eyes, saturated like a lightning strike. You were rather well-versed in the language of his body – you think that your intuition often matched Satoru’s rather equally. He was still much taller and larger than you, but you exceeded in your efforts to dodge. He didn’t often bother with hand-to-hand combat much anyway, much more focused on perfecting his inherent techniques.

You gasp when he decides to close the distance between you. The touch of his fingers on your skin is a jolt to the senses as his legs sweep you when you’re too occupied with dodging. You hit the ground with a thud, groaning.

“Sorry, babe,” he chuckles, leaning down to take your hand. When he does, you pull him backward so that he tumbles.

“Hey!”

“Payback,” you shrug. You maintain a fighting stance once again, staff in hand.

Suguru often took you more seriously, offering to teach you martial arts when Satoru was off on solo missions. You breathe heavily as Satoru takes his first swing, which you dodge by a hair.

Focused, you move with the grace of a ballet dancer, halting his movements with your staff the way Suguru had taught you. When you kick a leg high in the air, Satoru catches you by the ankle just for you to fall again. This time, you’re sure you’re bruised.

“There’s still time for you to give up,” he teases.

You groan in irritation, rising to your feet and walking closer to him. He smiles, enjoying seeing you pissed off and breathing so hard. He’s so wrapped up in looking at you that his senses are hit with whiplash – your fist gets through his Infinity easily and socks him square on the jaw.

“You little–”

“Why didn’t you have your Infinity on?” you exasperate, but he’s already pushing you to the ground and struggling with you the way you used to when you were children.

“I’m soooo gonna get you for that–”

You end up kicking him again, this time in the ribs as he groans. When you pin his wrists above his head, he merely stares at you with wild eyes and heaving breaths. His face is red and cherubic, and when he squirms, you squeeze his waist in between your thighs.

You lean down close to his face, your breath tickling his ear.

“I win,” you whisper. You flick him on the forehead and he flinches. You wonder again why he’s letting you touch him like this.

“Letting you pin me down isn’t me letting you win, sweetheart,” he rasps lowly, only for you to hear. He rolls his hips slightly and it makes your eyes widen, much to his satisfaction. You frown and crawl away from him just in time to hear Shoko beckoning you.

“Lab time!” she calls after you. Without a second look at Satoru, you follow her inside.

Satoru is lying on Suguru’s stomach, frowning because it isn’t as soft as yours.

He’s also without entertainment since Suguru has been hogging his DS for the better part of an hour, which Satoru had only let him do because he claimed he wanted to take a nap. But, as per usual, he can’t sleep. He’s still roused from sparring with you, slightly sweaty still from the warmth and the mustiness of the dorm room, and his cock is getting hard again just from thinking about you on top of him.

“Fuck,” Suguru swears under his breath, caught up in a game of Pokemon Emerald.

Satoru lifts his head to scoot his body higher, chin resting on Suguru’s forearm to peek at his progress.

“You’re doing terribly.”

“I know that, thanks,” Suguru groans. “I have like, two backup Pokemon left and they’re both level 30.”

“Do you use the same technique with your curses?” Satoru teases. Suguru makes another agitated noise again in response.

“You should’ve brought your Game Cube from home.”

Satoru shrugs, sighing as he sits up. He snatches his DS out of Suguru’s hands, interrupting the boy’s protest with a wet kiss to the mouth. Suguru kisses back immediately, tongue peeking into Satoru’s mouth before he pulls away.

“You haven’t kissed me in months,” he chuckles. Satoru shrugs.

“Maybe you haven’t kissed me in months.”

“I would’ve thought you’d count it as cheating.”

Satoru is quiet for a moment, rubbing Suguru’s jawline with his fingers gently. He’s been rather gluttonous lately, and he thinks Suguru is starting to catch on. He’s been clingier to the both of you, obnoxiously so, acting more of a nuisance to you specifically for the sake of attention. His heart is aflame whenever he sees you interact with Suguru in ways that are both good and bad, but he doesn’t prefer to dwell on it for very long before he nearly forces you to give him attention.

“Having withdrawals?”

“Huh?”

“She’ll be back soon,” Suguru laughs cruelly. “Whenever she’s gone for a bit, you act like you’re fucking dying.”

“No, I don’t,” Satoru frowns. But he knows he’s lying.

“Don’t mope. C’mere.”

Suguru sighs, seemingly out of pity. He grabs Satoru by the face and sticks his tongue in his mouth – a rough kiss out of spite, out of unbridled passion. He’d dreamt about Satoru and you for weeks, always sneaking glances.

He’d considered taking both of you months before when you and Satoru and Shoko threw him an impromptu surprise birthday party despite his refusal. He had seen you tipsy, squirming in Satoru’s lap while Utahime set up karaoke on the television, and decided he’d let you come to him when you wanted to. You were still a shy thing even after New Year’s, never asking again for his touch.

Satoru groans, palming his dick over his slacks as he leans back. He could feel his cock leaking in his boxers already just from the roughness of Suguru’s knuckles grazing his skin. There was a manic buzz in his head, thrilled by the slight power imbalance he was allowing.

Suguru hadn’t touched him since before he started seeing you, and even then, it was mostly rudimentary teenage lust. Jerking off to magazines together. Seeing how much they could take in their mouths before gagging like it was a competition.

“Fuck,” Satoru grunts, feeling Suguru’s tongue on his clavicle.

“You thinking about her?”

“Yeah,” he rasps.

Suguru chuckles darkly, biting harder at the bone. “She was so hot today. I taught her those moves, y’know.”

Satoru makes a mumbled nose, eyes fluttering shut as Suguru palms him. He unbuttons his slacks to reveal the snowy trail of hair above his pubic bone, Satoru’s cock flushed and weeping as Suguru holds it.

“Want me to fuck you?”

“Use your mouth,” Satoru pants. He knots a fist in Suguru’s dark hair. “Want it like this.”

He hisses when he feels Suguru’s mouth. His jaw slackens at the feeling, gasping for air when Suguru hollows his cheeks to suck tightly. Satoru shoves him down further.

His body feels tight when Suguru motions a finger towards his hole, pausing to spit on his fingers beforehand. With two fingers stretching him open, Satoru pants and gasps. His thighs twitch, hips rolling upward into Suguru’s mouth like it was a cunt.

Your face flashes in Satoru’s mind and it makes his insides careen. Brain like pulped fruit. He opens his eyes to see Suguru’s, narrowed and golden and taunting. It’s similar to the way you look at him, sometimes.

The fist in Suguru’s hair tightens now, knuckles white. Satoru grunts brutishly, overwhelmed by the stimulation in his hole in tandem with Suguru’s tongue pressing on the underside of his cock.

“Fuck, gonna cum–”

Suguru moans, jaw aching only slightly. Satoru could feel his dick inside Suguru’s mouth, heat building up until he spills onto the boy’s tongue. His head falls back. Breathing like he’d just run a marathon.

“You need a better appetite. Shit tastes like battery acid.”

“Doesn’t all cum taste like that?” Satoru frowns. His hand is still in Suguru’s hair.

“You tell me.” Suguru kisses him, licking the inside of Satoru’s molars. His lips move against Satoru’s mouth slowly, listless so he can take himself. When he pulls away, Satoru wipes the slick off his mouth, plump and bitten.

“You’re exaggerating.”

May, 2009

The sky is oddly grey this afternoon despite the pleasant morning. Yamanashi prefecture is as beautiful as ever with cherry blossoms blooming, but as you approach the cursed site, you continue to feel a chill down your spine.

It’s your first real mission. One that Yaga had at least approved you for after you had nailed your physical assessments, able to imbue enough cursed energy into a katana to swing around without slicing yourself. Still, you were meant to act as backup for Suguru, which Satoru hated.

“Why don’t we just both go with her?” he had wailed to Yaga days before, to which Yaga grunted in dismissal.

“You have a solo mission.”

“But–”

“That’ll be the end of it, Satoru.”

Admittedly, you do wish he was here. Suguru is a comforting presence, though, calmer in demeanor but much less talkative than what you’re used to. You walk with him through overgrown grass and lengthy vines.

“What kind of curse are we supposed to find?” you question out loud.

Suguru shrugs. “It’s difficult to tell exactly, but I’m assuming the cursed spirits roaming around here will be, er, women-shaped? Maybe. It should be Grade 2 at most."

“What do you mean, women? What happened here?”

“You don’t know? This place is super haunted.”

“So we’re ghost-hunting.”

“Ghost exorcising,” Suguru grins. “There used to be gold mines here in the 16th century owned by the Takeda Clan. They also ran brothels for the miners. After the Battle of Nagashino, the clan had to give up the land, but not before they killed all the prostitutes to keep them from spreading information about the gold mines.”

“H-how did they kill them?”

“The miners had the women dance at a farewell party, then they hacked the vines that kept up the bridge they were on. They fell into the waterfall.”

“That’s horrible,” you frown. Foreboding swells in your chest.

You can’t sense any cursed energy around you other than Suguru’s. You’re too busy ruminating to watch your step, accidentally tripping over a thick root. You fall forward into Suguru’s arms.

“You okay?” he croons. His face is inches from yours and you forget how to breathe.

“Y-yes. Sorry.” As you untangle yourself from him, your body jolts. You gasp when you hear the hint of a wretched, bloodcurdling scream in the far distance that makes your blood run cold. It isn’t very loud, but it almost sounds muffled, like someone was screaming from another room.

“What? What is it?”

“Did you not hear that?” you whisper.

Suguru frowns at you in confusion, his expression seemingly genuine. You blink, trying to shake off the horrible feeling in your body.

“I think I just heard something. It sounded like a scream.”

Suguru waits, prompting you to elaborate. The forest seems darker now despite it being midday, the curl of the trees billowing in a way that feels uncanny. A girl-shaped forest.

“Maybe we should split up.”

“Absolutely not,” Suguru protests, his mouth set in a firm line. You hold his hand in yours, stroking it gently with your thumb.

“Suguru, you can’t expect to protect me the entire time. I need to learn how to handle things on my own–”

An inhuman gurgle rumbles from behind you. The curse looks similar to a reptile, yet human-like with webbed hands and sharp incisors slick with algae. The stench of mud is apparent in the air now. It drools green sludge before it bows.

You stand in shock, unsure of what to do as you lock eyes with Suguru. Warily, you draw your sword, and the curse’s eyes roll back in agitation as it lets out another gurgle.

“Oh, shit–”

You dodge a projectile of slime, but it crawls towards you at a faster pace than you expect. A slice of your katana dismembers one of its arms, but it easily grows back. Within seconds, a giant curse rises from the ground and swallows it up, teeth mashing on gooey flesh in a way that makes you want to hurl. Suguru’s ringworm curse is dismissed once the riverbank is cleared.

“What was that about not needing me to protect you?” Suguru sneers.

“I still mean it,” you exasperate, heart hammering out of your chest. “You barely gave me time.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll let you have the next one, I swear.”

He smiles genuinely. Satoru must’ve gotten to him – he’s not nearly as neurotic as Satoru in that way, but he wouldn’t be able to stand it if you got hurt. It was less of a possessiveness thing and more of a selflessness thing. Suguru had always been the one to be reliable. He was also more perceptive than Satoru in the way that he could practically feel the tightness of the leash he held on you.

If you were going to be something in the Jujutsu world, you wouldn’t be held back. Suguru thought you could be something ever since he saw you.

You continue to walk with him, knuckles brushing as the air turns thick. Suguru thinks that maybe you’re sulking in his periphery, so he pokes your cheek.

“Yes?”

“You’re awfully quiet.”

“Just thinking,” you mutter.

The katana feels heavy on your back. You had never thought of yourself as a particularly strong person, growing up to be obedient. A maid’s daughter. Hands a little rough from housework and the dirt of the Earth when you were wild, once.

“Let me walk around in that little brain of yours,” Suguru murmurs, always charming.

You pause, swallowing. You realize you have never spoken your insecurities out loud. When you were on the brink of it, it would always be during petty arguments with Satoru, who had a way of shutting you down dismissively. He was always a bit of a control freak, even with you.

“Do you think I’m weak?” Your voice sounds almost frail.

“Of course not. I think you’re very talented, actually,” Suguru says. “Satoru and I– we just care a lot.”

“I’m not sure if talented would be the word. It’s not like he thinks so, either.”

“He does. He just doesn’t know how to express his feelings.”

There seems to be something lingering in his tone that gnaws at you. The way he sighs. You decide not to pry, attempting to steer the conversation away from Satoru altogether.

You hear a wail again. Something in the shape of a girlish scream but only the echo of it. Suguru gives you that confused look at him and you aren’t sure if he’s just messing with you at this point. He touches your hand again and the motion makes you wince.

“What’s wrong?” He looks genuinely worried now as he looks at you, holding a hand to your jaw. That alone is mildly unnerving for some reason, even though you think that in any other environment, you’d welcome it. You place your hand over his palm.

“Do you really not hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“That woman screaming!” you hiss.

“Are you sure it isn’t some wild animal?”

You blink at him blankly.

“You don’t hear it.”

When he shakes his head, you hear it again. You begin to walk towards the source of it while Suguru stalks behind you, but you stop him.

“Maybe I should handle this.”

He grimaces, clearly unhappy. You raise your brows, challenging him. Suguru wants to hold you back but he knows he shouldn’t.

“Hey, another fucking– river monster could show up, and you’d be able to handle it. Maybe this is something that only I can see or hear. We’ll be too conspicuous with both of our cursed energy.”

He says your name with a hint of desperation and discipline, but you hold your gaze firmly.

“Okay,” Suguru sighs. “But if anything goes wrong, just yell for me, okay?”

You nod.

The tall grass tickles your legs as you move, which makes you thankful you decided to wear trousers instead of your usual skirt for the mission. Your hand grips the strap of your sword bag with anxiety. As you get closer, it’s as if the air is permeated with a smell that you can only describe as being in between sex and blood.

The scream you hear is louder now. You aren’t sure if it’s truly a hallucination, but it seems like the forest laughs back at you after. If you were a smarter person, perhaps you’d return to your partner. But you also assume that if you were to do that, you’d be a weaker person.

You walk over a wooden bridge that feels like it’s holding on by the barest thread. The creaking of the bridge beneath your weight adds to the unease that has settled in your gut. Every step forward feels like a gamble, a test of your bravery. The forest seems to close in around you, the trees whispering secrets you can't quite decipher.

A scream rips through the air and this time, against your better judgment, you follow it.

It’s punctuated with sobs and whimpers, getting louder and louder as you walk along the path. Cursed energy flickers in the shape of a girl. When you get closer, you see her.

A girl is sitting in a fetal position behind a tree, clutching her shoulder as she wails in agony. Her long black hair is matted and damp. She doesn’t seem to notice you yet, so you swiftly move to hide yourself between shrubbery to get a better look.

“P-p-please… help me…” she sobs. You choke up at the sight of her torn dress, hands and shoulder crimson with blood. She looks younger than you – no older than fifteen.

You grasp the strap of your sword bag tightly and cautiously as you walk towards her. Her eyes widen when she sees you. You aren’t sure if it’s a look of relief or fear.

“Hi there,” you say with a tremor in your voice. “What’s your name?”

“Akane,” the girl whimpers. Her face is pale with bruised lips.

“Akane. Are you lost? How did you get this injury?” You crouch down to meet her at eye level.

“Th-there was a man… I was trying to run away from him… but I’m in t-too much pain to keep going,” she breathes. “Please help me.”

You furrow your brows. You’re surprised that there was anyone in this forest besides those grotesque cursed spirits considering how abandoned and desolate the place was. The girl must’ve run far.

“Where are you from, Akane?”

“Tabayama.”

“That’s not too far from here,” you smile softly. “Let me heal you and my friend and I can get you back home, okay?”

You reach for her arm but she flinches and looks at you with unease.

“It’s okay,” you reassure her. “I’m a healer, see?”

Your cursed energy waxes and wanes within your palm like a luminous mist. You hover it over a superficial cut on your hand that you’d gotten from dealing with thorns earlier and the skin patches up like new. Akane watches in awe.

“I want to help you. Is it okay if I touch you?”

She nods her head apprehensively. You unwrap the saturated cloth from her shoulder, cringing at the sight of the gore and blood. You can’t quite envision the type of violence she’d just been through from the vagueness of her words, but you don’t want to make the poor girl explain in the midst of her trauma.

It’s more effort than what you’re used to – the wound is so deep that you fear that you’ll overexert yourself. You’d spent enough time in the lab with Shoko to improve your technique, but this time, it seems as if everything you’re doing isn’t enough. The skin on the girl’s shoulder is healing very slowly, and when you think that her condition is improving, another area of her body seems to bleed out.

“Maybe I should get my friend to help. He could take us to a hospital.”

“He?”

You look up to see Akane’s eyes grow cold. Almost lifeless, as if she’s looking through you. You hear the visceral sound of a limb breaking, the squelch of her organs. It seems as though her face is transforming right in front of your eyes, but it feels like an illusion – the way her skin looks decayed, the way her teeth grow sharper.

Akane – or what was Akane – cackles cruelly. Her cursed energy is overwhelming now, suffocating you. There’s a warbled cry that falls from her mouth.

“I’ll kill him.”

This is not a fucking Grade 2 curse.

You immediately get to your feet and swing your katana, but the curse blocks your attack easily. She’s also growing exponentially, no longer the size of a teenage girl and more like the river monster you’d seen earlier. She grabs you by the ankle, tripping you. A hack to the wrist with your katana makes the creature scream even more. You watch in horror as thick, black blood seeps out.

You yell Suguru’s name at the top of your lungs.

You see the Rainbow Dragon first, flying through the forest around you and the curse, but the nails on her other hand are strong enough to slice through the dragon’s hide. When you turn to lock eyes with Suguru, the curse lets out something in between a sob and a scream, shrill in your ears.

It seems as though she forgets you entirely, running head-first towards Suguru.

“I’ll… kill…. youuuuuuu!”

“No!” you screech, pulling her backward by the leg with all the strength you can muster. You slash the curse’s skin with your katana, making her wail, but she pins you down in retaliation with cuts to your arm from its sharp nails.

You hiss at the pain. You notice that her hair has transformed into its own entity, tentacle-like and razor-sharp as it slices through one of Suguru’s hound-like curses. She directs her attention back at him and aims for his neck, but you hold down a bloody hand onto her back as your hand pulls one of her sharp hairs back.

You cry out at the wound it makes in your hand, but your other stays pressed to the slimy flesh of her body. Your cursed energy ignites something unfamiliar in your body, something painful, but you imbue it into your touch with all you have.

She’s screaming. Or maybe you are. You can’t tell anymore – your head is dulling from expending more cursed energy than you ever have. It’s all dissonant to you. A horrific cacophony. You feel blood drip from your nose.

The curse’s flesh is rotting. As if the wounds she had when she appeared as a human were only rapidly progressing into decay, cells rupturing, body degenerating the harder you push.

It’s like she turns to mush. The corpse of the curse is barely recognizable anymore, just a puddle of chunky purplish-black blood.

You breathe heavily, looking up to see Suguru staring at you in shock. You try to give him a weak smile, but you don’t feel anything other than sick. Or maybe it’s numbness, at least for a few seconds as the forest is quiet again.

You double over and vomit. Your vision blacks out.

As a surprise to no one, Gojo Satoru is fucking livid.

He’s about to open his mouth but stops himself when Suguru gives him a look of disdain. There’s no one to yell at, except maybe Yaga, because why the fuck would he put you on a mission that could potentially involve a Special Grade?

“She’s fine,” Suguru affirms.

Satoru merely exhales through his nostrils, curling his hands into fists as he slumps down on the bench next to Suguru. He can’t help but envision your corpse, his brain reeling a horrific supercut of all the ways you could’ve been disfigured, maimed, bruised. Changed.

He realizes that the protectiveness over you he feels has turned into something ugly now that he knows you’re in the infirmary, something akin to fear, which is foreign to him.

It sinks into him like teeth down to the marrow, parasitic. He thinks of a faceless curse that he wants to tear apart with his bare hands. Satoru had tried to get over the desire to keep you in a cage, to keep you so unbearably close to him out of his own selfishness, but the feeling came back. He doesn’t know where to keep it other than lodged in his chest like a bullet.

“Did you absorb it, Suguru? Because I might need you to summon it later so I can get my fucking hands on it myself,” Satoru says, his voice low and seething through gritted teeth.

“No,” Suguru sighs.

Satord nods dumbly. Silence ensues.

“She killed it herself.”

You have dreams while you’re passed out. The curse you killed transforms its face from its teenage girl form and into others. You see Shoko, Suguru, Satoru. Everyone you’ve ever known. And when the skin of its face starts to rot the same way it did when you used your technique on it, you end up staring at yourself.

When you wake, it’s slow. The fluorescents in the infirmary don’t help. From outside of the room, you can hear hushed voices.

When you attempt to lift your body off the bed, you see Shoko sleeping in a chair next to you. Your bones ache, your skin stinging with the ghost of a wound. The cut on your palm from being slashed by the curse is a scar now.

You drop your head again, squeezing your eyes shut in an attempt to rest more. It’s too fucking bright in this room. Your breathing stills when you hear the door creak open.

“For fuck’s sake,” a voice bristles.

You hear another whispering Shoko’s name. Waking her, you assume.

“How is she doing?”

“She’s okay,” Shoko yawns. “Just sleeping. Her wounds were kind of deep, but I took care of it.”

A hand caresses your jaw gently, fingers stroking through your scalp. Your eyes blink open slowly to see Satoru grimacing above you. From the way the overhead light illuminates the back of his head, you think he almost looks like an angel. A makeshift halo shining on moonlit hair.

You notice the way he holds his fist tightly and the iciness of his gaze. It’s a fraction of rage, which makes you feel nauseous again. You’d seen that look on his face before, during the night of Shoko’s party. You wonder now, vaguely, what he looks like when he kills.

“Hey,” you mumble weakly.

“Hey,” he scoffs. “Wanna tell me what the fuck happened?”

“Satoru, let her be–”

“It’s okay,” you interrupt. You rise, wincing at the soreness of your muscles. “Um. I… killed the curse.”

“So I’ve been told,” Satoru deadpans. His jaw is tense, but his eyes soften. He looks up, flickering his gaze between Shoko and Suguru.

Shoko clears her throat. “She used her technique. The healing part of it is based on cell regeneration. Apparently, it can also be used… the opposite way. It must've been activated by adrenaline, and then it was too much. Passed out from exhaustion.”

“How is that possible?”

“Well, our technique is like a muscle, right? And she didn’t use hers very rigorously until now, so…”

“Right,” Satoru sighs, his voice clipped.

“I need a smoke,” Shoko rasps. “Do you need anything, baby?”

You smile weakly, shaking your head.

You can’t help but feel guilt snaking its way into your body. Even though you had exorcised a curse, your first actual achievement in Jujutsu sorcery, the bloodshed you’d experienced feels fruitless. You don’t feel very powerful at all, only monstrous.

It’s difficult to gauge what Satoru is thinking. He’s clearly upset about the fact that you got hurt, but you wonder if there’s more. If he resents you pulling a stunt like that and nearly killing yourself in the process—because what would you be if not his? Are you still his with bloodstained hands? Would he like you better now that you could prove to be strong?

It didn’t matter. He would always be stronger.

You hate the tension in the air. You can’t bear it. Maybe they’ll disperse once you get on your feet. There wasn’t anything left to do with your treatment since Shoko had tired herself with your wounds.

When you swing a leg over the cot and attempt to sit up straight, an invisible wall stops you. You glare at Satoru holding his hand out, palm outstretched inches away from your chest.

“No,” he snaps.

“Don’t do that,” you grumble. “I’m fine.”

He laughs but there’s no amusement in his tone. His eyes are cold again. Pools of ice.

“Right. You’re in fucking pristine shape.”

“Satoru,” Suguru warns.

“I– I can walk–”

“No,” Satoru repeats. “You’re hurt. Stop it.”

You look between Satoru’s hard gaze and Suguru’s frown and roll your eyes. You’re so tired, and overwhelmed with pain that transcends the physical kind. You can’t even put a name to it, the amount of emotions spilling out of you as you look at the two of them with mild desperation. You want to sleep for another twelve hours.

Irritation flares behind your face. You aren’t sure if you want to scream or cry for catharsis, but you stay quiet, trembling.

“I want to be in my bed,” you mutter.

Satoru lets out a breath as if he’s been holding it for a while. Gently, he touches the nape of your neck, Infinity down. Laces his fingers in your hair in a sort of compromise. He moves his arm underneath your back with the other under your knees and lifts you, kicking off the blankets.

You curl into him, head on his chest. It made it hard for Satoru to breathe, for some reason, like something was stealing the air from his lungs. He nods to Suguru as a voiceless confirmation, watching his cursed energy flare. I’ll take it from here.

When he gets you into your room, Satoru releases you, placing you gingerly on the floor. Part of him wants to shake you by the shoulders, have you slap him across the face for reasons unknown to him. Something, anything other than the despondence of your limp figure. He can’t stand it.

“Satoru,” you whisper. “I’m sorr–”

“Don’t,” he strains. “Do you even know why you’re apologizing? Or is it just second nature to you?”

You say nothing.

He strips off your uniform, torn and battered. Still reeking of copper blood, the stench all too familiar, but not on you.

“I’m sorry for being mean. I was just worried,” he says. “I’m… proud of you.”

“Proud?” You look at him, dazed, as if this is the last thing you expect him to say.

He nods curtly, a sad smile on his face. “I always knew you had it in you.”

He picks you up again despite your futile protest, walking you to the attached bathroom. After turning on the faucet, he sits next to you, hand stroking your thigh gently in silence. He doesn’t look at you. He’s not sure if he can.

“C’mon. Up.” He taps your thigh once.

You’re still dizzy as you enter the bath, sighing at the warmth of the water. As you sink into the bath, a sense of relief washes over you, momentarily easing the tension in your body. A much-needed respite.

You feel Satoru trail his fingers around your collarbone, rising to feel your pulse. The rhythm seems to calm him as he soothes his palm over your shoulders and back. His touch is less urgent than it usually is.

He squeezes shampoo in your hair and threads his fingers through it, scratching your scalp gently, untangling the mess of you. He saturates a washcloth with soap, rubbing small circles over your limbs, lifting you like you’re a doll. It was funny—he had never had to take care of anyone other than himself before, but at the moment, he’s indulged in the small hums of pleasure you make, reveling in your comfort. Your trust.

He likes taking care of you. It makes him feel like he has a sense of control. He doesn’t want to indulge too far into it, knowing it’ll smolder a nasty part of him in some way. But the steam of the hot water makes his cheeks ruddy, and when you open your eyes at the feeling of his hand on your jaw, he can’t help but want to keep you.

Satoru turns your face toward him, cupping your chin as he leans in to kiss you. Your mouth opens like a flower blooming, ready for him like always. He tries not to be rough despite the moan you tease out of him. Your skin is soft after he bathes you. His hands know carnage, but they also know you.

You break apart, looking at each other for a few seconds before he kisses you again. He pecks your mouth, nose, and cheeks, leaving you to scrunch your nose by the end. Laughing, he rinses your hair.

“Feel better?” he asks lightly. You nod.

“C’mon, baby. You’re gonna get all pruney in there.”

You’re perfectly capable of drying yourself off and putting on clothes, but Satoru seems eager to do it for you, so you stay limp in his arms. He’s being oddly affectionate as he babies you, which he never does. It’s usually the other way around.

With his hands on your waist, a dangerous thought flits through Satoru’s mind, but it dissipates when he fixes your hair to see you fresh-faced. You look young, innocent. Untouched by violence like he had known you before.

He takes you to the bed, where, despite the size of it, he manages to slot his body next to yours so he can curl into you. Head on your chest to listen to the murmur of your heartbeat.

You stay like this for a while, listening to each others’ breaths. You’re on the brink of sleep when you think you feel tears on your chest. Dampness on your cotton shirt, but only a little. Satoru exhales heavily, squeezing the meat of your side. You’re feeling a little too warm from the proximity but don’t have the heart to untangle yourself. You close your eyes.

“I love you.”

You aren’t sure if it’s a whisper in your dreams or not.

June, 2002

You both had matching bruises. Green and yellowish like snot.

The summer was changing you and Satoru in a way that held gravity. Satoru’s body was growing more and more, handsome like the beautiful child he’d been when you first met him, and you were a purgatory. Something girlish. Something ghostly.

Your mother had reprimanded you last week for coming back with a bloody knee, scolding you for rough play. The expiration on your youth seemed to be ticking from the way she chastised you about your shared misbehavior with Satoru – you were meant to grow into something polite and womanly.

Satoru had scoffed at the notion when you told him. He liked that you weren’t obsequious to him like everyone else in his life who treated him like a little prince.

Unfortunately, you’d pave the road of your abjection all by yourself later on.

He still thought of you as the only person who understood him. He was your first friend, your only friend for a while, and you were his. You’d count stars with him. Catch fireflies and make wishes on them. Wear each other’s clothes before his growth spurt.

You’d clung to each other for years—it was difficult to tell which one of you was the parasite. Despite this, sometimes you think Satoru hates you. Sometimes he makes you cry, especially with how apathetic he can be. You blame his stoicism on his upbringing, but there are times that you feel like an afterthought, only exacerbated as he grows older and into something of worth.

At age twelve, it’s difficult for you to believe that you could be anything similar.

Your young ferocity gets minimized to meekness at school. There’s hair-pulling, harder than Satoru’s ever done to you. Stolen lunches. Spitballs to your back. Your face kissing pavement.

“What happened to you?” Satoru asks, narrowing his eyes at the sight of your split lip.

“I fell.”

He’s forceful when he drags you to him. He’s too tall for his age, towering over you with cold blue eyes staring down at you. You flinch when he touches your cheek with his hand.

“You’re lying,” he frowns.

“It’s fine,” you mumble.

He doesn’t pry after that, but he does force you to clean the cut with hydrogen peroxide, which is ironic considering how little he cares about his own cuts and bruises from his private training.

On the playground the next day, you’re targeted again, reaching desperately for your backpack that’s stolen straight from your hands. A kick to the shins has you scraping your palms when you try to ground yourself. Your hands sting as they bleed. You gasp when you feel another kick to the stomach, a cruel round of laughs taunting you.

But then, you hear them gasp. The sound of knuckles hitting bone.

“Touch her again and I’ll fucking kill you.”

Satoru lifts you up by the hand and holds you by the shoulders. He picks the debris out of your hair.

“C’mon, let’s go home,” he sighs. He ignores the tears on your cheeks. He’ll wipe them away later along with the dried blood in your palms.

You’ll shower in his bathroom, mind blank under the hot water. He’ll see your silhouette through the peek in the door, and his stomach will lurch in a new way. He won’t be able to look at you for a week after.

June, 2009

He comes to you at night a little drunk. You’re surprised Satoru didn’t warp this time – you’re used to seeing him in the blink of an eye right before you go to sleep just because he doesn’t want to sleep in his own room. Sleep is hardly a thing for him anyway – his insomnia has gotten a bit worse over the years, so he prefers to play on his Nintendo DS quietly as he strokes your hair.

“You actually knocked?”

He shrugs as he moves past you to flop his long body onto your twin bed. You look at him in question. He doesn’t answer, only gesturing for you.

“Come over here,” he slurs.

“Are you drunk?”

“Not–” he hiccups, “at all.”

“Satoru,” you berate.

“Okay, maybe I went a little crazy with the Dirty Shirleys. Needed a drink after the stupid fucking mission Yaga sent us on.”

“You shouldn’t be drinking this much. It’s a weekday.”

He mocks you and settles a hand over your waist. You notice the calluses on his hands, ironic considering he can never let anything touch him. But you can.

He sits you on his lap, rubbing your shoulders carefully. “How’s your night been?”

“Shoko made me watch Audition,” you frown.

“Oh. I love that one.”

“Of course you do,” you sigh, “Nothing scares you.”

You aren’t wrong. After assassination attempts and countless wretched curses thrown Satoru’s way, nothing could make him flinch anymore.

“You scare me,” he pouts, undressing himself. Always staking his claim on you in this way – he wouldn’t leave if you asked, and you know that you won’t.

“I highly doubt that.”

“You should yell at me more. It’s kind of a turn-on when you’re mad.”

You roll your eyes as you turn off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness if not for the light of the moon and the annoying brilliance of Satoru’s eyes. Even his hair seems to glow in the dark, head dipped in starlight.

As you lay on your side, you feel Satoru’s palm undulating your bare thigh, tickling you under the hem of your t-shirt. He breathes in the scent of your neck.

“You have goosebumps,” he mumbles against your hair. “Gonna get nightmares from the movie?”

“No.”

“I’ll protect you,” he giggles boyishly, body overheating with want.

He sucks on your neck, hand parting the plushness of your thighs. You keen at the feeling of his teeth and tongue, gasping at his large fingers sliding your panties to the side to prod your cunt.

“This is all I could think about today.”

“Yeah?” you whisper.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice rough. “Kept thinking about all those sounds you make. Kept thinking about your face.”

“You shouldn’t—ah—let yourself get so distracted on your missions.”

He laughs. “Whatever. Killed all those fuckers in less than ten minutes anyway.”

Satoru keeps you pressed to his chest, his other hand grasping your breast. You feel his dick hardening behind you as he plays with your cunt, fingers knuckle-deep inside you. It didn’t take him long to find your spot the way he had you memorized. Your eyes shut tightly as you moan. Stars knock around your head.

He turns your face toward his and licks at the seam of your lips, tongue roughly licking the inside of your mouth. Your body tingles at the sound of his groans. He holds you by the chin, hand slipping around your throat to hold you in place so he can take in every detail of your face.

You flush under his gaze, how his blown-out pupils outweighed the ocean blue. His pink mouth is parted and breathing out, zephyrs of maraschino cherry tickling your face.

You cry out when he pins you down, sinks his cock into your wetness. A wounded sound. It makes him shiver, makes him think about you on that dingy cot a month ago in the infirmary. Satoru was about ready to avenge you in any way he could, back then, even when you weren’t even half-dead. He’d reshape mountains. Drown the whole city of Tokyo with his bare hands.

In the way he holds you with bruising force, rutting into you like a devoted dog, he decides that he will be the only person to hurt you. The only one who should, knowing that even with his regrets and jagged ways of caring, no one else should lay a finger on you except him. He’d never hurt you in a violent way, unless his passion had counted. If devouring you counted, which it probably did, he would be content with his selfishness if it meant you were safe.

He needed to learn how to stop being so goddamn obsessive. He’d work on it later, maybe. He’d try not to speak curses into existence from the way he felt about you.

At the moment, he wants to make this good for you. Something like love.

“Made for me,” he whispers. “You were fucking made for me.”

“Yes,” you gasp.

He splits you open, spearing into your gut as he mumbles praises lowly into your ear. Your cunt pulses at the sound of his voice. He thrusts into you harshly, making blood rush to your head.

“You make me feel insane,” he grunts. “Used to think about you like this in high school. You were so fucking stubborn, refusing to give me attention.”

“You were a brat,” you flush. “Still are.”

“Your brat.”

“Mine,” you hum.

He groans at that. He’s so deep in you, drowning in syrupy velvet. He liked it when your body made him feel like this, like he was levitating. He wasn’t Gojo with you, always Satoru, always just a boy. He’d be content in this infinite spiral, swapping spit in between tongues and fucking into you until you cried. Your body is sacred. You made him forget himself when he needed to.

You like when he carves you out like this, your cunt a shrine for him at this point. You moan at the loss of him, watching through glassy eyes as he stumbles, fixing your body in between his knees.

“Wanna see my pretty girl’s face,” he groans. He’s annoyingly rough when he enters again, but you love it. He says your name like it’s a prayer.

Your head buzzes as he thrusts into you faster this time. His hair sticks to his face, tickling your cheek as he bites into your neck. Midnight vignettes blur your vision.

“Wish you’d let me have you earlier,” he pants.

“Fucking me for the past year wasn’t enough?”

He shakes his head. “Wish I lost it to you. I was thinking about you during it, too.”

“Satoru,” you whine.

He means it. He was already blunt as could be, but alcohol made him over-honest. He liked that his candor made you blush.

“Would you have let me fuck you?” he teases. “When we were fifteen?”

“No. You were even stupider then.”

“So mean to me,” he chuckles, rolling his hips more aggressively. He revels in watching you squirm. “I would’ve worshipped you.”

“No, you wouldn’t have,” you mumble, hiding your face in his chest. Nails cross-hatching the length of his back.

“I would’ve.” I will.

He kisses you open-mouthed like it’s a promise, pulling your hair in the process. The room was starting to get hot, that June humidity unforgiving, even at night. You’d have to open a window later. His body makes yours swelter, skin melting into skin like he’s trying to fuse the both of you into one thing. Like that Greek myth about two halves of a soul.

“Fuck, ‘m so close,” he whimpers. “You feel too good. Shit, I wanted to make you beg.”

“Sounds like you’re the one begging,” you exhale.

“Yeah,” he grunts. “Want you. You’re killing me. Fuck.”

He spills inside of you at the same time you cum, the heaviness of his low groans making your brain break. He’s still drunk, head swimming with every part of you. Above you, he sports that fallen angel look again, eyes gleaming with rapture. Prodigious as he was, he worships you instead, blessed with love bruises adorning his shoulder.

Satoru always liked to fuck you like it was the last day he’d ever have you. Tonight is no different.

He exhales at the juncture of your neck, soothed by your hands in his hair. He lifts his body up, kissing your collarbone before he descends to your belly. You tremble at the feeling of his hand cupping your cunt.

“Satoru, I can’t–”

“Please?” he pouts, his breath tickling your clit. “Wanna taste you. All mixed up with me.”

Heat rises to your face violently. “You’re disgusting.”

“You love it.”

“You made such a mess,” you grumble.

“I’ll clean it up,” he grins.

You let him. His sharp mouth never lets up, anyway.

“Wait! Sit on my face.”

“I can’t even feel my legs,” you pout.

He whines your name. “I had such a tough mission today, baby. You don’t think I deserve it?”

“Spoiled,” you mumble as you switch positions with him. Below you, he looks feral in the eyes, over-eager. Hungry like a wolf even after fucking you hard.

You gasp when he pulls you down, slotting your thighs on each side of his head while he starts to taste you. Licking up into your cunt, moaning at the taste of himself and the sweetness of you. He grips your ass, guiding your movements like the ebb and flow of a wave. You shake above him.

“Jesus.”

You feel him laugh, the vibrations tickling your clit.

“Annoying slut,” you call him. He seems to enjoy it, thinking of it as praise considering how loud he groans. It almost embarrasses you.

That familiar feeling twinges in your core again.

“Cum for me, baby,” he breathes. He latches his mouth on your clit and you think you might burst. Maybe crumble and fly away in the wind like a dandelion.

He continues to suck on you as you ride out your orgasm, your thighs trembling. When he gets up for air, his eyes are blown out wide, drunken smile on his face as if he’s peaking. Chemical reactions in his blood.

“So good for me,” he grins, kissing you on the mouth. Your heart flutters.

His gaze is still searing into you. Looking at him hurts, sometimes.

Satoru presses into you, curling into your neck again. His heartbeat reverberates throughout the room. Tenderness floods the both of you, bodies slotted together like he wants to make a nest out of you.

You’re exhausted with heavy lids. Satoru strokes your skin until you fall asleep, careful fingers soothing the places his mouth had been. Divine wounds. Like a devotional dog with teeth too sharp and love larger than his body, Satoru will be the only one to hurt you.

#gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you #geto suguru x you #geto x you #satosugu smut #gojo x geto

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somehow-a-human · 19 days

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Whose POV is it Anyway?

A Conclusion.

DO NOT ASK NEIL ABOUT FAN THEORY

Okay. Well. That was more intense i'll say than I expected. There is a lot happening with these filters over these 6 episodes and it was a bit more detailed and harder to follow than I had originally expected but we got through it and I have more than a few final thoughts to wrap this up.

For reference & context, I recommend reading these posts:

Whose POV is it Anyway? - Introduction

POV "Your 'Something's Wrong' Voice"

POV a Trip to Hell and a 25 Lazarii Miracle

POV a Companion to Owls

POV The Dirty Donkey & I think I Found a *Clue*!

POV Bodysnatchers & Cosplaying a bookseller

POV 1941

POV The Ball

POV The End?

Lens Filters

Shall we conclude?

So, if you remember back to my originally introductory post for this series, the thing that kicked off this entire analysis was a bit of commentary made by the cinematographer Gavin Finney in this article.

Finney Describes the Bronze Glimmerglass filter as being used for "bookshop scenes", the Black Pro Mist filter for "Hell", and Black Diffusion FX for "Crowley's Present Day Storyline". I still hate that wording.

Something in that zinged my brain just right and I launched into research about the cameras and these specific lens filters. Give that post a read seriously or none of this will make much sense. ANYWAY.

What I had decided for writing these posts, since we had two main characters, was that I was going to apply the Bronze Glimmerglass (BGG) filter to Aziraphale's POV, since it was mentioned it's applied to bookshop scenes and he's always there anyway, and the Black Diffusion FX (BDFX) filter to Crowley's POV, since well, that's what they said it is kinda.

Do I think it is as simple as, it is either Crowley or Aziraphale's POV? no.

It was a decent jumping off point though, and it was working really well for the first few episodes but once we got past the halfway mark of the season, the lines started to blur, and I think that is perfectly in line with our story.

The BGG filter is usually applied to scenes in the bookshop, featuring Aziraphale, or the record shop, sometimes the coffee shop when Maggie is being lovesick over Nina. We even see it in heaven during the Job minisode and its on THICK during the Whickber Street Ball. The BGG filter is romantic, idealistic, it's just that a filter. Looking at the world through rose colored glasses! Looking at the world likely how Aziraphale would like to see it.

The BDFX filter is cooler toned, more realistic, it's used in scenes with Shax and Crowley, and often Nina when Maggie isn't around because these characters are pragmatic. They aren't dreamers, they see things for the reality that they are.

Whenever Crowley shows up and says something snarky to Aziraphale to break him out of his fanciful delusions and insults him (affectionate), like the scene at the coffee shop, or the scene at the pub, the filter switches from BGG to BDFX. We're being broken out of the dream, brought back into the colder reality.

I think it makes sense to apply the filters to characters for a lot of the season because their actions fit in their characterization. Aziraphale is daydreamy BGG, Crowley is a realist BDFX. It just works. But then we start to add in the demons attacking The Ball and the offer from the Metatron and everything falls apart. The BGG filter is gone. The dream is gone. We're in cold reality, even in the bookshop where we are usually consistently in a dreamy state.

Even Crowley gets the dreamy effects of the BGG filter and of what-could-be peace & domesticity in the bookshop when Aziraphale is in Edinburgh and he's forced to just hang around and chill with Jim. I'm sure that type of life is all he wants with Aziraphale. Quiet, wearing his cardigan and carrying books around for his love.

I'm glad I wrote my opinions before that C & A were possibly imagining each other in the Edinburgh POV chapter so that theory can exist on the internet somewhere but I think this is more likely the case. The filters are more likely indicating to us what the wants dreams and desires of the characters are compared to the realities they see. What do they choose to see better? Worse?

What does this mean for the Final 15? It's simply reality, and neither of them want it.

I'd like to remind you dear reader that this is one opinion, of which there are many on this website, and plenty of them are worth reading and considering. I don't expect that I'm right. I expect that I'm wrong. In fact, I'll probably write another series of posts next month detailing precisely how everything here is completely backwards to how it ACTUALLY is! Well maybe not. That is to say, if you don't agree with this, that's cool, I might not either tomorrow, but wasn't it entertaining to read?

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stuffnonsenseandotherthings · 2 months

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CityBoy_Log: Blurring the Lines Between Fiction and Reality.

I was doing my daily scroll through YouTube one day when a thumbnail (this thumbnail) caught my eye:

Now, at first glance I'll admit there's nothing exceptional about it. In fact, it's so perfectly run of the mill that I actually thought it was a vlog from a new K-pop band that I hadn't heard of before at first. The name, the picture they chose, the title.... all of it checked out and I had no reason to be suspicious that it was anything other than it seemed.

Anyway, I was bored, it had been a while since YouTube had recommended me anything K-pop that wasn't a group I was already subscribed to and I was feeling nostalgic for a good K-pop vlog.

It was only 5 minutes

What harm could it possibly do?

So I clicked on it.

And then I feel down a rabbit hole.

CityBoy_Log: The Drama

So it turns out that "CityBoy_Log" is not, in fact, a K-pop group's travel vlog series, nor is it a vlog series at all...

Well, it is...

But not really.

It's actually an 11 episode BL drama.

Summary:

Idol Lee Jae Jun, model/actor Lee Ji Han, actor Seo Byuk Joon, and rookie model Ahn Hyo Sang start a vlog channel about their trip to Okinawa, Japan for a photoshoot. The four meet for the first time (aside from JaeJun and Byuk Joon, who are longtime friends) when they learn they will be sharing a home during the trip. Though Ji Han's introduction caused some tension within the circle, the group's feelings towards each other start to change and grow as they keep vlogging. The vlogs show how their individual friendships develop by the end of their stay and after coming back to Seoul, some even beyond just platonic. (Mydramalist)

On the face of things, "CityBoy_Log" is a pretty straight forward drama (some might even call it mundane). Four friends navigating their relationships with each other on a trip. There's a main couple and a side couple and plenty of pining and love squares to keep the audience and the characters on their toes. Really nothing standout in a world where Semantic Error, Love for Love's Sake, and Eighth Sense exist, right?

Except the format.... the format is something else.

Because when the summary says "the vlogs", it really means the vlogs.

"CityBoy_Log" is a BL drama told entirely in character.

Like your typical k-vlog, the majority of the content comes from hand-held cameras carried about by the characters, only occasionally interspersed with aesthetic shots from their "camera crew". The characters talk openly to the audience, updating them on what's going on and what they're thinking and feeling; transitions between scenes are choppy and periods of time are missed due to "unfilmable" moments that we either only catch glimpses of or are told about later (or in some cases, have to fill in the blanks ourselves); dialogue is choppy and sometimes even awkward (especially as they're still getting to know each other) and voice cracks, nonsensical lines, and awkward pauses are all over the place.

It is feels messy, lightly edited, unscripted, and, for the most part, very very real.

Blurring the Boundaries Between Fiction and Reality.

Seeing how far the creators of the show have gone to make this drama feel realistic is fascinating. All the episodes are posted as vlog episodes on the show's YouTube Channel, they post additional shorts that follow the latest trends, and even have celebratory lives where they talk to fans. And all of this is done in character.

They also have an Instagram page and on MDL there is very little information about the actors (who use their real names for their characters) and no information about the team behind the scenes (although I suspect they're linked to whoever made Semantic Error because that show gets name dropped a lot and they even "audition" for the upcoming drama made by it's creators) .

Given how much effort has gone into making "CityBoy_Log" pass as real it shouldn't be surprising that there are quite a few people who believed it was real for a time.

Now personally I am a huge fan of innovative storytelling techniques and "CityBoy_Log" has really hit it out of the part creatively (it reminds me a little of SKAM in that respect). I applaud the actors for just how realistic their characters feel (I actually can think of anything harder than having to pull off "act like you're not acting" and they do it flawlessly at least 90% of the time) and whoever came up with and executed the show really did something special too. It's an incredibly compelling watch (I binged it) and I immediately felt connected to all the characters in a way it normally takes a drama a few episodes to set up.

Do I have my doubts about how wise it is to blur the lines between fiction and reality so much? I won't lie, yes, especially as this show is rooted so heavily in 2 fandoms where those boundaries are already heavily blurred but for now I'll trust that they know what they're doing (perhaps more so than many other shows that draw heavily on fan service). It does seem like, at least for now, while everything feels real and in character, that it does exist in its own little bubble and that the actors involved are able to leave it behind when they get off work.

Anyway, it'll be interesting to see how it progresses, given that a second season has been confirmed and there was.... a very interesting reveal at the end of the last episode. I'm looking forward to how they continue to play with the format and getting to spend more time with Jae Jun, Ji Han, Byeok Jun, and Hyo Sang

🔗Here's a link to the channel if anyone wants to check it out:

https://youtube.com/@CITYBOY_LOG?si=CKqz8QdfzySCqRyL

CityBoy_Log: The Vlog

Team Hyo Sang all the way. All this puppy wants is for his hyung to notice him and he is adorable about it.

Tagging @lurkingshan @twig-tea @respectthepetty and @rocketturtle4 because I don't know if you guys have seen the show yet!

#cityboy_log #kbl #i binged this show #and I have thoughts on the format #also the ending #because where are we going with this???#where ever it is it looks fun 👀

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thydungeongal · 7 months

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D&D is pretty good at what it does

But a lot of people want something completely different out of it

How's that for an eye-catching and not at all combative title?

I'm going to preface this post by saying that I do not dislike D&D (any edition of it). I am critical of the game's reliance on tropes that are Fucked Up, it's sometimes incoherent design that emerges from lack of explicit design goals, as well as a player culture that clearly thinks the game is something it is very much not. This point of view is informed by having played D&D (various editions) for more than twenty years and having seen the game struggle with certain types of narratives that oddly enough are the exact types of narratives that people time and time again want to use it for.

This is going to be a hell of a long one so I'm going to put a read more break here. I will have to break this post into multiple posts, so suffice to say that this is just the introduction. Uh, I'll be tagging these as #the big damn post. This is part 1,

Part 1: Terminologie

First of all, a bit of terminology: I have, in the past, used the term challenge game a lot. With that term I refer to a type of role-playing game structure where the GM presents a series of challenges for the players that the players then overcome by interfacing with the fiction through their characters. Challenge games at their core are very much tests of player system mastery, both in how good they are at the character creation minigame but also of how good they are at applying the mechanics of the game in action. Knowing how to make a character who deals a lot of damage when they attack is one test of system mastery, but knowing when it's best to make an attack and against whom is another test of system mastery.

D&D, old-school, is very much a challenge game. Within the context of D&D, the dungeon crawl has been the purest expression of a challenge game.

But most D&D players don't play D&D as a pure challenge game. As early as AD&D 1e there were already modules that presented adventures that were more grandiose than the traditional dungeon crawl. I don't feel comfortable placing the blame for this squarely on Dragonlance, but the early Dragonlance modules definitely helped popularize this type of adventure and AD&D 2e finally cemented it into the game. The fact that the 2e DMG doesn't even have a procedure for creating dungeons is telling of this.

And it has been so ever since: even D&D 3e which presented itself as a return to the dungeon type of affair still presented those dungeon crawl scenarios within the framework of an extended, grander narrative, as did 4e. This structure of using D&D to tell longer, extended narratives that are more than simply player-driven explorations of a funhouse setting built by the DM has also become very popular over the recent years, largely due to the prevalence of actual play media that presents these types of extended narratives powered by D&D gameplay.

Now, I don't have a definition ready for the latter type of gameplay. "Story game" and "narrative game" don't sit right with me because those terms mean very different things to me, and to me D&D played with the express purpose of authoring a collaborative story together still plays very differently from what I consider a story game. I thus think it's better to talk about modes, like different modes in a video game. Specifically, there's Story Mode and Challenge Mode. And most groups actually end up playing a game which switches between the two modes.

So, D&D: Challenge Mode refers to D&D played purely as a game that challenges players on their system mastery where they interact with a fictional place or situation with the purpose of simply overcoming the challenges placed there by the DM, pretty much exclusively with the goal of growing in power and thus being able to overcome greater challenges. The purest expression of a challenge game is a dungeon crawl or sandbox game, as these structures also allow for player agency in determining which challenges they wish to engage with and how, thus allowing for another expression of system mastery. It should also be noted that a challenge game is not necessarily a purely combat-centric meat grinder, as there can be social challenges placed even within the context of a dungeon crawl and how to overcome those challenges can also be an expression of system mastery.

On the other hand, D&D: Story Mode refers to D&D played with the goal of experiencing a grander narrative with greater stakes that are either of import to the world or personal to the player characters. The "story" can either be a DM authored linear narrative that the players are expected to follow, their characters basically taking the role of the protagonists in that story, but Story Mode does not automatically rule out emergent narratives or player agency.

As stated before, most players actually end up playing a mix of the two modes, because D&D is at its core a challenge game so by its very structure players will end up engaging with Challenge Mode. Very few players play the game as a pure challenge game these days, in part because that playstyle is considered a lesser expression of the game.

And that's the thing: even though the expected playstyle of D&D has changed over the years to favor Story Mode, the game of D&D has changed very little structurally to the point where it's still very much a challenge game. Even in the strictest Story Mode game players will still be engaging with what is, ultimately, a challenge game engine.

Next time I will be talking about what it is that D&D does by its mechanics and what it is about it that makes it structurally a challenge game. In later instalments I will go more in depth into what it is about this structure that makes it very bad for Story Mode games. I will also try to provide some solutions, although fair warning: a lot of my advice is going to boil down to "play a different game if you want Story Mode" or "accept that D&D works best at Challenge Mode and play it like that."

#the big damn post #long post

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ravixen · 9 months

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hi!! hehe i read ur partner privileges post and i was wondering if u could do the same for vocal unit if possible?? thank you! 🫶

svt + prioritizing their s/o (pt 2)

➔ reaction || requested || vocal unit

➔ warnings: none || 0.9k words ➔ notes: fluff ; hiya, thanks for the love :) the concept for this series isn't partner privilege since I'm saving that for a different idea, but I definitely know which reaction you're talking about. I hope you reblog the other post and this post if you enjoyed reading them! also a reminder to followers: I block any empty blogs/blogs with less than 3 posts or reblogs :)

JEONGHAN: his calculation skills are unmatched, but you think highly of him in general so you're not sure if the praise means much. you can always tell when he's thinking because his face freezes into an open smile, maybe an stilted laugh, as his eyes flicker around the space, and you practically hear his synapses firing as he weighs out options and draws conclusions. you're almost envious of this ability; it always takes you a little longer to see what he sees. while he's zipping through the forest path, you're getting stuck on bushes and low branches, and this frustration is what makes you reluctant to join in on games sometimes. of course, he notices this, too. when you get too quiet, he sidles up to you, murmuring barely audible suggestions. "tell seungkwan about cheol's betrayal tactic. bring up minghao's shopping trip from the other day—it'll be funny. shout over mingyu whenever he starts talking," he'll say without blinking an eye. the first time, you were hesitant and missed the timing, but he continued standing next to you, waiting for the next opportunity. it's helped your confidence a lot, and no one has caught on yet (or so you think). every time, he's reacting along with everyone else, letting you take the spotlight, because he'd rather help you out than claim credit.

JOSHUA: found in part one!

JIHOON: you know he's a busy guy, so you always tell him that he doesn't have to pick up your calls, but he does anyway, no matter what he's doing. if he's truly busy, then he'll tell you immediately and say that he'll call you back later, but if it's nothing too pressing, then he doesn't mind listening to you talk for however long you want. sometimes you catch him in the studio or watching anime, and he lays on the couch, phone on his chest, to hear about your day. sometimes you catch him out on errands, and he puts you on speakerphone as he drives. sometimes you catch him out with friends, who always have to make their presence known in the few precious seconds they have before your boyfriend steps away to a quiet corner. you ask him about it once, and at first, he makes a bad joke to deflect, but after a moment, he admits that it's to show you his sincerity. he loves knowing that he's the first person you call for good news, bad news, boring news—and he never wants that to change. "I'm worried that..." he fiddles with his t-shirt hem as you wait. "well, I'm worried that if I don't pick up enough, I'll stop being your number one contact, and I really like being the first person you think of."

SEOKMIN: he likes to include you on every decision, and it's really sweet...when you don't have decision fatigue, at least. but how can you get irritated with him when he blinks up at you with those big bright eyes that hold nothing but adoration for you? over time, you learn to differentiate when he actually has an opinion and when he doesn't care what you choose. for example, I think the strawberry cake sounds good. Is that okay? means that he wants it, though if you wholeheartedly disagree, he'll find a compromise—like buying two cakes. on the other hand, I think the strawberry cake sounds good. What do you think? means that you can choose whatever you want. at the core of it, he just wants you to know that you matter to him, and the easiest way to do that is to listen to you. it's not really a pet peeve, but he doesn't like when people unilaterally decide on things, so he makes sure to never do that to you. "I'm sure I'll like whatever you choose," you tell him, but he shakes his head. "what if you don't? I should ask just in case." he covers it with an over-dramatic pout and cutesy voice that make you laugh, but he's serious. your opinion and happiness will always matter to him.

SEUNGKWAN: you don't know how he manages to remember so many of your favorite things, but he does and he uses this mental catalogue to impress you all the time. it's not just your favorite things, either; he somehow recalls the things you've mentioned in passing, things that even you have forgotten, and it's really impressive when he takes you out for food you've been craving, when he drops off an item that you've ran out of, when he says he looked up tips on how to clean ketchup stains. "how do you do that?" you stare in amazement as he pulls up a reservation to a restaurant you've been dying to try. "how do you make room in that brilliant brain of yours for all of these details?" he rolls his eyes, but there's a smile tugging on his lips at the praise. "I just erase some of our early choreography to free up mental disk space," he says, laughing. "c'mon, is it really that unbelievable? you know I like remembering things about the people I care about. you're obviously included in that group. I like making you feel special to me because you are." he pretends to dig his knuckles into your cheek, scolding you for thinking otherwise. honestly, you can't quite figure out seungkwan's love language because he's the type to show his affection with every action.

#caratwritersclub #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #jeonghan scenarios #jihoon scenarios #woozi scenarios #seokmin scenarios #dk scenarios #seungkwan scenarios #g: svt #m: jeonghan #m: jihoon #m: seokmin #m: seungkwan #t: reaction #s: request #anonymous #ravixen

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gentlebeardsbarngrill · 2 months

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02/24/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Cast&CrewSightings; Samba BTS; David Jenkins; Rhys Darby; Damien Gerard; Guz Khan!; SaveOFMD Crew Billboard; AdoptOurCrew Saturday Sillies; Making A Difference; Articles; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Tonight's Taika;

Been a long Saturday yall. Hope you enjoyed the BTS and general clown/honking going around!

== Cast & Crew Sightings ==

= Samba Schutte Feat. David Jenkins! =

Samba's back with more BTS for us today!

This time the Crew Shoutout is for Chaos Dad himself: David Jenkins! So good to see Chaos dad having such a great time BTS. We love you David!

Videos on Tumblr:

Video 1

Video 2

Video 3

= Rhys Darby =

Rhys decided to take it up a notch today on his Tiktok/Instagram and tell... someone they've created a monster. Who might that be?

== Damien Gerard ==

Our crew-mate @patchworkpiratebear got a Cameo from our lovely Father-Teach, Damien Gerard! There's a bit of a story behind it, see below! Cameo link

== Guz Khan! ==

Hey! It's been a hot minute since we've seen our friend Guz Khan-- and now he's showed up on a cat! Good to see you sir!

== Save OFMD Crew ==

There have been questions raised about the billboard that the SaveOFMD Crew have been posting teasers for on their socials. The Crew had a meeting today wherein they discussed the concerns of the fandom, and have taken that feedback to heart. They are currently working on a clear information packet regarding the logistics of the current billboard efforts. They have kindly asked for your patience while they finish putting those last touches together!

== @adoptourcrew Saturday Sillies! ==

Our friends over at @adoptourcrew were kind enough to set up a new Saturday Sillies this week! This time they made custom OFMD Wordles! There were WAY too many images to include in the recap, so if you'd like to check them out, please visit the tumblr post below!

Wanna play? You can visit a tumblr post here

== Making a Difference! ==

Thank you to everyone who contributed to, or shared the fundraiser for Trans Pride Brighton! They've finally met their goal and can stay open another year! You made a serious difference in the lives of trans and non-binary folk in that community!

== Articles ==

Deze HBO-serie is gecanceld, maar had een 95% op Rotten Tomatoes

Schwule Romanze zwischen Piratenkapitänen

== Love Notes ==

Hey lovelies. I hope you had a fun Saturday/Sunday wherever you are. I know some of you are already closing out the weekend. We made it through another day-- and there's all sorts of action going on across all the platforms. I hope you got a chance to have fun, but also to rest. I know you know this, but even though I do too I often forget it. Rest is so very important. It's so easy to burn out, especially when we're constantly exposed to so much online. I think to myself "oh it's fine I'll just get a few more things done" and then it's suddenly 3 hours later and I've had only 4 hrs sleep in the last 30. Please please please give yourself self care today. Go brush your teeth, or take a shower. If you feel like you can do more, brush your hair, or make yourself a nice cup of tea. Do something for you that makes you relax and feel rested. On your last day of the weekend, make sure to take a few moments to yourself and just remember how awesome you are. You may not feel like it sometimes, but I can tell you now you truly are Awe-some. You bring so much life and love to this world and you deserve all beautiful things you want. Anyway, I'm very sleepy and I'm rambling again (what's new). Sleep well and enjoy your day lovelies, see you tomorrow.

== Daily Darby / Today's Taika ==

I'm being lazy tonight again yall. Just two goofy gifs that caught my eye, sorry I am running on fumes. Tomorrow I'll try to find some themed ones for ya <3

Rhys Gif: Courtesy of @fandomsmeantheworldtome

Taika Gif: ohnotheydidnt.livejournal

#daily ofmd recaps #ofmd daily recaps #ofmd daily recap #daily ofmd recap #our flag means death #ofmd #rhys darby #taika waititi #samba schutte #david jenkins #chaos dad #daddy jenkins #guz khan #damien gerard #save ofmd #save our flag means death #adopt our crew #save ofmd crew

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a-doubleh-x · 26 days

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Why I like Chaggie

Hey! My last casual ship review did pretty well, so here I am with another! Needless to say, but thank you all for the interactions, I appreciate it very much 🥰

Last time I talked about Charlastor, a notorious controversial ship and today I'll talk about a surprisingly controversial ship: Chaggie. Why do people dislike this ship? I'll go a bit into it on the second half of this post, but first I'll talk on the positive I see in this cute couple.

First of all, as a guy in his late twenties who's been on at least one relationship, I will say that I appreciate a relation that's mostly based on comfort and support. Some people might think that's boring or not quite the basis of romance, but I think quite the opposite. Johnathan Decker, a licensed couples therapist on youtube (you might know him from Cinema Therapy) often talks about how safety and mutual understanding are the basis of any lasting relationship.

At the start of the Amazon series, Charlie and Vaggie have been together for 3 years, which is evident in many of their day to day interactions. They're comfortable with each other, they rely on each other and best of all, they still coo every now and then over how adorable the other is.

That is not to say the relationship is without conflict, which in my opinion as a writer it's the lifeblood of any good story. Vaggie is clearly quite codependent of Charlie, which is why a large portion of her self worth is based on being useful to her. However, I think the two of them do a decent job of talking through the problems this brings sometimes, such as episode 3.

I think it's cool that the relationship seems to work despite their rocky moments. Charlie most likely thinks a person like Vaggie is a breath of fresh air in Hell, she's selfless, loyal and dedicated. That's probably the reason why she has so much patience with her, a feeling that I'm certain is mutual. Vaggie is clearly very aware of how silly and idealistic Charlie is, in fact she often tries to nudge her to be careful with her attitude. And even though she may not agree with everything, she still always supports her without appearing judgemental, which I think speaks volumes of her character.

Now, let's talk about the shortcomings in the face of the audience. Some people think there's not enough substance in canon to be sold on the couple, which I think is a valid opinion. Some people argue that Chaggie's relationship is boring and not quite as interesting to watch as Charlastor, which I don't entirely agree with. Some people plain dislike or hate Vaggie because they think she's just a naggy chick who is an awful partner to Charlie in every way, which I *definitely* don't agree with.

My opinion falls in a more moderate standpoint. I think, even in the series, their relationship isn't boring, but it could've been presented better. While I said earlier that I think conflict is good in a story, I think a problem in the series that's probably unintentional is that most of the story beats with Charlie and Vaggie are negative.

In episode 3, they have a fight over their lack of communication. In episode 6, Vaggie puts her own secret status as a fallen angel over Charlie, which harms her later. And in episode 7, Charlie spends most of the episode mad at Vaggie and they make up offscreen, which is something unilaterally most fans believe was a mistake.

To the showrunner's credit, there are some positive major story beats. There's Charlie's trust fall on Vaggie, which was cute. There's their beautiful duet in episode 8. And there's them fighting alongside each other in the final battle.

Unfortunately, the fact their arc is a bit wonky and doesn't have a proper buildup makes it so that the climax (the duet) may feel a bit unearned. I don't want to make this whole post about the series because I could spend all day talking about it, so I'll just say for now that i underdtand why some people aren't sold on the ship.

I will say. Some fans have some very beautiful, gorgeous pictures of this ship. There's this great comic made by squids-and-fruitcake that's been running around about Charlie giving Vaggie a gift for Christmas (here's a youtube link in case you want to watch a dub, I couldn't find the original)

youtube

I think it's a great example of why this relationship works: they love each other. They may not completely understand each other's circumstances, but they try every day and are still together because of their mutual effort.

Charlie herself, as Hell's number 1 laughingstock can really use the support and the fact that Vaggie supports her even though she doesn't have all the answers means a lot to her. She brings her stability, peace and affection, all things she lacked until she met her.

Vaggie, on the other hand, who was plunged against her will into a pit of violence and cynicism also needs Charlie's perspective. She loves the fact that she cares about something bigger than herself, that she wants to help damned people like her, which given her circumstances I think it's something she also needs in a fundamental level.

That haz bin my review for today! What do you think? Do you like Chaggie? Do you think it could've been written better? What's your favorite interaction between them? Let me hear your thoughts! It's been fun to put my thoughts down for casual reviews, I hadn't done it before, so expect more in the future while I'm still working on the next chapter of my fanfic.

I think I already have an idea about what my next Hazbin post is going to be about (hint: it has to do with Angel Dust). Thank you again for all the love, hope to see you all soon!

#hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #vaggie #chaggie #Youtube

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starrysharks · 29 days

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🦈💫PINNED POST 💫🦈

name: ZENO

age: 15-17 (don't wanna share my exact age sorrey)

gender/pronouns: maybe genderfluid, probably just cis girl - use any pronouns you'd like but she/her and he/him are best

race: ghanaian AND PROUD 💯💪🏿🇬🇭 (living in bumfuck britian tho)

MORE ABOUT ME AND MY ART DOWN BELOW!!!

other than that basic info, i am a CARTOON ARTIST inspired by stuff like invader zim, sonic the hedgehog, and moe anime, who enjoys drawing primarily CUTE GIRLS... but also some GUYS too i don't discriminate. i'd say my art covers around 50% fanart 50% OC art. i LOVE my ocs so much and so should you, so check out the tags for them and ask lots and lots of questions about them please.

(HERE is where i'll eventually put links to my OC comics and projects when i finally finish them, so look forward to that!)

i also do COMMISSIONS! i can draw for absolutely anything you want, and these days i've been wishing to be commissioned for a T-SHIRT DESIGN, ALBUM COVER, or MUSIC VIDEO... so if my comms are open when you're reading this, GO COMM ME WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?!?!?! (BY THE WAY even tho i am a MINOR all comm money goes into an adult relative's paypal account, so your money is 100% SAFE!)

also, if you're wondering how i draw SO WELL... I HAVE AN FAQ!!! SO PLEASE STOP ASKING ME QUESTIONS ABOUT BRUSH SIZES AND SUCH BECAUSE I'VE ALREADY ANSWERED YOU!!!

other than art, my interests include nintendo games like SPLATOON, POKEMON, and the like, other games like TWDG, SKULLGIRLS, LITTLE NIGHTMARES, WORLD'S END CLUB (the best game danganronpa guy ever damn made), and KATAMARI DAMACY, cartoons and comics like INVADER ZIM, JTHM (which everyone should totally read please it's so good), DUNGEON MESHI, MLP, SOUL EATER, FLCL, SCOTT PILGRIM, and DOROHEDORO, and a million i forgot to name, and movies like THE SAW SERIES, SPIDERVERSE, and PROMARE!!!!

also i don't talk about it much, but i love NU METAL... i love KORN, LIMP BIZKIT, KITTIE, COAL CHAMBER, NOTHINGFACE, AND SLIPKNOT as well as many other music artists nu metal or otherwise!!! (notable ones being MCR and literally every vocaloid producer under the sun.) (i will reblog posts from haveyouheardthisband constantly to recommend my followers music, it's my god-given right)

i also LOVE TO HATE (am a critical fan of) DANGANRONPA and COOKIE RUN from time to time...

anyway even tho this is an account mostly for art posting and question answering, i do actually care about serious stuff going on in the world and will reblog posts talking about it sometimes... AND SO SHOULD YOU!!!

also i don't really have a DNI, just don't follow me if you're like. racist or something man that's fuckin' weird... also don't follow me if you're a TERF, NSFW account, or ED/pro-ana account! (SERIOUSLY)

ok i think we're done? cut the cameras

#pinned post

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psychelis-new · 9 months

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pick a pile: "Your true colors - (2/7) Orange"

take a breath and choose the photo or number that calls you the most to read a message for you from the color orange, the second of the 7 rainbow's colors. in this serie of readings about the rainbow's colors, I will try to channel about your true colors, so to help you look inside and see your most beautiful self, appreciate yourself more and hopefully provide some type of guidance if necessary. as cindy lauper would say: "your true colors are beautiful like a rainbow", so let's look at them and hear what they have to say to you and how they (you) can help you look at things in a more positive way.

orange is the color of meditation, simplicity, compassion, excitement, joy, adventure, sensuality, pleasure (sacral chakra)... in this reading, I'll try to analyze this side of your character.

you can find the other colors' readings in the pacs list in my pinned post

don’t take the reading too seriously. only take what resonates with you and leave the rest. if you're not called by any pile, let this reading slid as it may not hold messages for you. if you're called by more than one pile, there may be messages in each of those piles. remember that is a general reading and some things may not resonate with you. energies can change and readings are based on present ones (as you read); you're always in charge of your life.

(photos found on unsplash)

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1 2 3 - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 1

You are someone stimulating, happy, funny, but somehow you don't always tell everything that's behind that. You should be more vocal about your needs in any area of your life. You should ask for more. If you fear being labeled as needy, that's not the truth: people call you needy when they cannot handle their own needs too or were taught to not ask cause they dealt with people unable to provide/meet their needs as well. We're humans, we all have needs. Don't be afraid to ask. The worst that can happen is getting a "No" but it's nothing you haven't dealt with, right? You can survive that, you can ask for something else and get it instead. And it's fine. Maybe, it'll be even better than what you are asking for, who knows (maybe asking and getting a no will lead you to a different path, a better one even). But you'll know for sure instead of tormenting yourself over a matter without even asking for it. You can also compromise if necessary. And you can also be the one saying "No" and standing your boundaries. Try to be more in touch with yourself, to be more yourself also when you deal with others. To be more true with yourself and your needs too, to accept your needs first and foremost, cause you may pretend you don't actually need help or support when you actually do. Be in touch with that side of you. So don't be scared of being too much for anyone, you're not. You're not too much. Ask back for what you give, balance the energy in you. At times we tend to overdo things, to hide ourselves, to make things more complicated than they really are. And we help creating regrets and resentment as well this way. Be more simple, just ask or talk instead of letting fear and stress take over. You are allowed to ask and talk. Actually, you should. Do not wait for others to ask you or address you something. Not everyone has your same emotional depth or empathy, or can always read your mind, sometimes people just need to hear your words to answer you accordingly and meet your needs (and it's not out of selfishness or cause they hate you, they're just different and dealing with their own things too). Be more in touch with yourself to help them help you too. Meditate more. It will help you deepen your relationships with yourself and others. I think that's something you want, also in love/physical acts, if applies. You can have what you want, just be more simple in your approach to it. Simplify things, simplify your life instead of complicating it by overthinking and worrying (not easy at times but... try maybe). You have already all the answers inside of you, don't be scared to hear them and pour them out. Be your whole beautiful self.

song: fallin' all in you | shawn mendes

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pile 2

You know your complexity, you know your worth and you know you are probably called to leave a footprint somewhere in this world. I think you're not afraid of trying new things, of escalating mountains and generally reaching higher. You also know when it's time to take a timeout for yourself, when you need to focus on something or not. You know when it's time to change, you're pretty much a meditative person. You're kinda brave too. But you're also very giving. And you're higly supported by your Guides and Angels and ancestors too. I think you know about your worth as a spiritual being, about your worth as a soul that brings light into this world but at times you tend to forget that or you happen to have many spiritual awakenings (and tower moments) that may mine your beliefs and self confidence. Reconnect with your body and listen to it. I know it sounds weird cause we're mentioning about spiritual things (we're gonna talk more specifically about this side in another color's reading I hear) but our bodies hold many more answers than we're aware of. For example your body may show you through tiredness how hard your soul is working to change, how much you're changing inside without being aware. Give your body rest when this happens. If you're having specific physical needs, try to meet them. There's nothing wrong. Touch and caress yourself, explore yourself, meditate inside and outside. Don't grow separated from your body (as it may happen when you concentrate too much on your inside world and maybe healing too). Remember to hug yourself and compliment yourself on your look and your abilities everytime you can. Don't let yourself grow thirsty for compliments and accolades, you deserve them, start giving them to yourself anytime you need, anytime you realize you've done something worth of that (and it could even be just getting out of bed on a tough day: it doesn't have to be anything "big", what we consider little things are big too if we put under the right light -see yourself as you'd see a friend). Also never be too harsh on you, look at all you've done: your worth never depends on a single bad day, be lighter. Get closer to you with love. Be more curious about who you are on all levels, especially be more curious about your body, do not separate from it. Again, know and listen to your body and don't be scared of it and what is telling you. Do not keep it at a distance, it's part of you. It always tells you about how you do on a mental level too: bodies can help you let our emotions and feelings out; in fact, if we store them inside without acknowledging them, our bodies will feel that. And they may even start hurting (eg. think about anxiety and how your stomach may feel bloated during an attack). Try to always acknowledge your feelings and what you go through, so to be more positive and of help to yourself. And to others too, if you need. Try to let go of stress as much as you can. And yes, I mean in that way too. Try to balance yourself more between physical and mental/soul state. You're already a blessing for everyone able to meet you, be it for yourself too.

song: back at one | brian mcknight

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pile 3

[it's gonna be a little nsfw -just the topic itself-, so up to you if you want to read it or not: I'm just leaving this here phrased in the most general way cause this reading is for everyone] You may have fears or insecurities revolving around the physical aspects of love. It could be something you don't want to deal with consciously or unconsciously (maybe cause of a trauma/fear of intimacy/self doubts...), or are afraid of cause you're unexperienced (and you may fear others' judgement). I want to remind you that it's up to you if to get there/open that door, and know that side of yours without being scared of it and understand why you're seeing it as "negative"/"dirty" (maybe because of your upbringing) or just plainly avoid that because you don't feel ready (yet/at all, maybe something happened and you need to stay away from it, that's fine as long as it doesn't hurt you -if it does, seek help please). It's okay. It's only your choice, if the case, also how you wanna experience it, when and why. Do not let anyone tell you what it is about or how you should behave/think about it ever. It's your own personal world until you willingly decide to share it with someone cause you trust them/you feel like or any other reason. Take your time. Do not let anything or anyone rush you into it. Remember that not because your friends (or this person you like) have already experienced something in that area while you haven't, you should feel any less. You're you and you're perfectly fine even if you don't want to deal with that yet/at all (no matter your age: you have time, don't worry you will never get to experience that cause of how others will see you; if someone loves you and craves you they will not care about your experience). You are lovable anyway, however you are and whatever you believe in. And you can love who you want to (this reminder esp. for the lgbtq+ people here feeling caged by others), you can try anything you want to to. Nobody can judge you or your decisions/choices or story. Just take time to know yourself, whenever you'll feel like. You're a very funny, joyful, giving, gentle and also adventurous person and it's beautiful to be with you, to spend time with you not just as lovers. You don't have to change anything unless you really feel that need (but not to please anyone else). And remember to always change at your own pace and for yourself. You can choose which kind of adventures to sail on and when/how. If someone wants to rush you into something and kinda triggers you or wants you to choose fast, it's never for your good but only theirs. Never regret saying no and choosing yourself first. Never fear being judged by someone that can wait for you and give you space and helps you, never fear being judged by yourself either (do not pick up others/society's words, they're not you). And remember others judge you only because they project their fears and false beliefs onto you, they aren't judging the real you (they can't). Let them talk and move to someone better. Move back to yourself. Lastly (not sure for who, but it came up...): never compare to those movies/actresses/actors/models, those are just society's expectations or movies indeed. IRL all is different. You're hot as you are for any lover of yours. Believe in your power, it's all about confidence in yourself (even pretended until you really believe it): that's the only trick you need to know as you're already perfect. Take a breath.

song: sometimes | ariana grande

#pac #pick a pile #pick a card reading #pick a card readings #pick a picture #pick a photo #pick a card #divination #clairs readings #free tarot reading #tarot readings #intuitive readings #psychic readings #pac reading

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chronicbeans · 9 months

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Puppeteer Wally Darling x (G/N) Puppet Reader

idk if this will be a series or just a one off so LET'S GOOOOOO (if you want a part two, let me know in the comments of this post.

TW: Obsessive and Possessive Behavior, Kidnapping? (Can you kidnap a puppet? IDK but we're putting that warning just in case), Controlling Behavior

Wally Darling grins widely as he puppeteers the star of the show, (Y/N) (L/N), in a scene within their home. As sad as he is that he cannot voice them, as well, just bringing their personality to life through their motions is enough for him. Voicing his beloved (Y/N) is all up to Sam, their voice actor/actress. Sam, who also happens to be out sick, today. Just like yesterday. And the day before that...

"Aaannddd... CUT! Great job, Wally. You did great! If only Sam were here. Have you heard any word from them?" The director sits back in their chair, staring at the puppeteer on set. Everybody has been asking him about Sam, today. Why are they asking him? Is it because they don't get along?

"No. Sorry. I haven't heard a word. They don't tell me anything." "Alright. Well, you can go take a break, Wally. You've been filming for about... Woah! I must've lost track! You've been filming for NINE hours straight! Isn't your arm tired from being upright for so long?" Wally shakes his head, grinning as wide as a Cheshire. "I can't feel my arm at this point... but I can keep going! I'm always happy to keep going! (Y/N) means so much to me-!"

"Take a break, Wally... And put that puppet back in the storage, will you?" The director looks over to one of the camera people, telling them to turn off the camera, before muttering to themself "He's an amazing puppeteer, but Jesus... He treats that thing like it's alive..."

He quickly runs to his little office, taking (Y/N) with him. Placing the puppet on his desk, he gives his arms a rest as he lies back in his seat. Letting out a long sigh, he looks over to the limp puppet on his desk. Sitting it up and leaning it against a pile of books and folders, he smiles. Surely, the director won't mind if he keeps (Y/N) out of that dingy old box for a little while... As long as they get back in there by the time he leaves, it should be fine.

"I wonder why everybody keeps asking me about Sam, (Y/N)? Do they think I did something to them? Sure, we don't get along, and they clearly don't have as much passion for you as I do! I would never hurt them, though! Do you think I would hurt them?" He looks down to the puppet, smiling. Of course, it doesn't answer. It still feels nice to act like (Y/N) answers and understands. "Thank you for the kind words. It really helps! I love working with you, but the others can be so stressful, sometimes!"

Wally looks away for a moment, checking a few papers on his desk. His schedule seems rather empty for the next week. He had already gotten most of the filming for the episode done today! Only two more scenes require (Y/N). He wishes that there were a few more, to be honest. He prefers working to having nothing to do all day. Maybe he-

"Where... WHERE AM I?!"

Wally's eyes widen, hearing the familiar voice. He looks over to (Y/N), seeing that they have now toppled over onto their side. Their arms flail slightly, as they squeak out "Where am I?! Who? What?! This isn't the neighborhood!"

As much as he wants to squeal with excitement, they are being rather loud. That, alongside the fact that they are voiced, and still sound like, Sam... and people are a bit suspicious of Wally for some reason... He quickly grabs them, placing a hand over their mouth as he quickly says "Be quiet! Someone might hear! I'll explain as much as I can! Just be... Quiet. Here, let me help you back upright."

He picks the puppet up, feeling them squirm a bit in his hands, then sits them back where they were. They raise their arms, which shake as they do so. As they look up to him, he feels his heart swell with joy.

He doesn't know how this has happened... And, frankly... He doesn't care. (Y/N) is talking! (Y/N) is moving! (Y/N) is... (Y/N) is alive! Shaken, yes, but still alive! It's his greatest wish come true! All the work he's put in to bring this character that he loves oh so much to life... Did he have something to do with this? Did his wish for (Y/N) to be able to talk back, move, and live a life in his world make it actually happen?

It doesn't matter. All that matters is that his little puppet is here, in front of him, and able to truly interact with him.

"What's going on...?" Their legs shift slightly, but not much. "Why do my legs feel weird? I can barely move my legs?!" Wally pats their head, saying "Shh... It'll be alright. To be honest, I'm not entirely sure what is going on, either. I can tell you where you are, though. First thing's first, though... I'm Wally Darling! I already know who you are, (Y/N). Before you ask, I'll let you know how I know your name."

He goes through everything. The studio, the show, how they are a puppet. To his shock, they already knew they were a puppet, just not exactly what it meant... They didn't know somebody was controlling them in their world. The poor little thing seems so confused! It looks like their head is spinning!

He picks up (Y/N), grinning from ear to ear as he says "Don't worry, (Y/N)! I'll keep you safe! This world is large and dangerous for a puppet like you! I, as your kind puppeteer, will make sure you are safe from harm!" To his shock, (Y/N) only flails, saying "I want to go back to my world! My neighborhood!"

Wally's eyes widen. They want to go back? To leave him? He knows that it is the right thing to do, but he simply cannot have it. As much as he wants to make his lovely little puppet happy... they can just learn to be happy with him! There's no reason why they can't, right?

A simple shake of his head was all it took for them to visibly lose hope. "I'm afraid I can't do that. I care about you too much to let you go back! Think about it... I explained how your world is a show, right? It is like... think of it like a little lie. Would you rather go back to your world, cursed with the knowledge that everything you say and do, see and hear, and all your friends, are just a lie? That it isn't real? Or would you rather stay here, where everything is real?"

(Y/N) shakes their head, again. "I could go back and tell them the truth! I could let them know what is going on! I could-" "Not if I don't let you. I control what you do in that world. If I don't let you tell them, then you can't." "I still want to go home. I want to see my friends, again. I want to go back to Home and take a rest." "You can take a rest at my house!" "I WANT TO GO HOME!" "Be quiet! The others might notice! I might be treating this like it is normal, but if others saw you moving about, they would scream! Stay still-!"

Wally quickly places his hand over their mouth, again, as the director walks in. "What is going on in here?!" Wally chuckles, nervous, as he says "I'm just practicing my (Y/N) impression! You know, since Sam has been out for a while. We don't want to get behind on episodes just because they are gone! Who knows when they will be back?"

The director's eyes trail to the limp puppet in the man's hands. "I thought I told you to put that thing away! Why do you still have it out?" Wally flinches, quickly thinking of an excuse. "Well, I needed to practice not only the voice, but also puppeteering while talking. Since I usually only have to puppeteer, I thought it would help to practice doing both?" The director sighs, nodding.

Then, the best words he has ever heard come out of their mouth happen.

"Just take that puppet home with you, if you want. You clearly have something wrong in the head to be so... ungodly attached to it. You'd probably would keep it in better condition than when we leave them in the storage boxes, anyway."

With that, the director slammed the door to Wally's office shut. The puppet in Wally's arms began to move once more, looking up to Wally with fear. They immediately begin to squirm, trying to get out of his grasp, only for him to hold them still with ease. "Come on, (Y/N)! Let me show you just how much you'll love it here! I'll show you how happy your show makes the children of this world, as well as how much fun this world can be! Anything for you to stay, (Y/N)!"

He grabs a small, cardboard box, then places the struggling puppet inside. Quickly stapling it shut, he then pokes a few little holes into the top. Yes, technically, a puppet cannot breathe, but he still feels bad keeping them in a dark box during transport. Picking up the box, he takes it to his car, saying "Don't worry. The ride will be short. I love relatively close to the studio! Just stay calm, alright?"

"LET ME OUT! WALLY! WALLY! LET ME GO!!!" The box shuffles in the car seat, the puppet inside clearly being in distress as he drives down the road. "WALLY!" (Y/N) peeks out of one of the holes in the box. "I don't know what you are doing, but you are clearly not being a nice neighbor! LET ME GO!" "It's too late. Even if I wanted to, we are already at my house! Come on, let me show you around!" "You could just drive me back-" "LET ME SHOW YOU AROUND!"

He quickly swoops the box into his arms, carrying it into his house as the puppet inside throws itself against the cardboard walls, attempting to escape. He rushes inside, closing the door behind him, before placing the box on his couch. Popping open the lid, (Y/N) pokes their head out, frantically looking around the room.

Their face would've grown pale, if it could've, as they survey the room. Their expression twists, as much as their felt face could allow, into a look of anxiety and fear. Looking around, Wally is slightly confused. What could be wrong with his home? There isn't anything that is obscene or dangerous, as far as he is aware. Then, it hits him.

This place is Wally sized, not (Y/N) sized. The small puppet, who is only around 3 feet tall, give or take, will have a bit of trouble navigating his home. Especially with the fact that they don't seem used to their puppet body. Normally, he would feel bad or sorry, then help accommodate his beloved little puppet. Considering the fact that they clearly want to escape him, however...

This is perfect.

Even more so, because felt hands won't have as much traction and grip on things like doorknobs, windowsills, and the likes. It's going to be harder for them to try to get out without his permission. As much as he hates knowing that he is making (Y/N) unhappy, it truly is for the best!

"Aww... (Y/N), this will only be for a week! Then, I have to go back to work! Maybe... Maybe, when I puppeteer you at work, on set, you'll go back to your world? Just wait. If my theory is true, you'll be back in no time!" The puppet nods, folding their arms. They look away from Wally, clearly upset and full of dismay.

Wally picks up (Y/N), holding them in his arms gently, almost like he is cradling the most precious thing in the world. To him, he is. Nothing could compare to (Y/N)! The effect they have had on the children who watch the show brings him such joy. The way they talk about kindness, acceptance, generosity, and creativity is all that he has wanted to see in life. He has always wanted that kindness, that acceptance, and affection for himself! Now, he can. Now, he can have (Y/N).

His co-workers may call him crazy, saying something is wrong with him... having crushes on fictional characters is childish in their eyes- something an adult shouldn't do. They've been on his back for him talking to the puppet like it could talk back, how he never seems to let it go, and how his little obsession is made stranger, considering that he puppeteers the character. They've always told him that (Y/N) isn't real and to let go. Jokes on them, because now Wally's precious, sweet (Y/N) is real! They're real and they're his.

#welcome home #welcome home arg #wally darling #wally darling x reader #welcome home au #welcome home puppeteer wally #welcome home puppeteer wally au

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