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shaisuki · 1 month

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DADDY'S HOME

FT. GOJO SATORU, NANAMI KENTO, TOJI FUSHIGURO, GETO SUGURU

content warnings: yandere themes, past mentions of abuse, noncon, baby trapping, dubcon, manipulation, stalking, forced pregnancy, stockholm syndrome, ooc characters, crying, redemption arc?, murder, abuse, rushed writing. dead dove do not eat.

notes. my first post in april. been struggling for awhile and having writer's block plus having the new addition of two chunky puppies that looks like potatoes with legs. requests are slowly being worked on and i deeply apologize for the delay. thank you!

synopsis: long they searched for you and only to find out you have a child. their child. would they be still the same person who had hurt you or a changed man for the sake of your child?

GOJO SATORU

“where's your mom, little guy?”

there is no doubt about it. the child in front of him is his. it is like looking at the younger version of himself except for the hair, dyed black to conceal the snow-white hair identical to him. how fast can he come up with the conclusion that the child is his?

gojo was careful of the past hookups he got tangled with. there's no way he will knock some random stranger and be forced to take responsibility for a child he didn't want. there is only one person he did get pregnant, you.

his wife who escaped left him a few years ago with his unborn child growing inside your belly. funny how all those escape attempts you'd done in the past, you only succeeded once and that is when you're pregnant and then after that you disappeared like you didn't exist in his life but gojo isn't that willing to let you go. he will find you. there's no force or power in this life that can stop in him and only fate to intervene and guide him to you which leaves him in this current situation.

the sun begins to set and the clouds turned into a mix of oranges and red. the swing makes a creaking sound as it sways back and forth along with chains clanging with every move. resonating into the emptiness of the park and his son only ignores him. barely glancing at him while staring at the distance. waiting. waiting for his mother. waiting for his wife to pick him up.

gojo chuckles at the cold treatment his son have been giving him. hadn't been the most affectionate person just like when he's at that age. unforgiving and arrogant. he looked at the ground beneath him. a brief memory flashes by before looking at his son again. leaving the swing at a flash and sprinting towards someone. he follows the little boy and gojo smirks. fate do favor him.

“mama!” your little boy called to you. almost jumping in your arms and you fumbled a bit. balancing the plastic bags in your hold to pick up your son. threading his hair with your fingers and kissing his forehead like you always do.

“satoshi! sorry for making you wait. mama had errands to do. how are you?” in which your son looks at you with a huge grin in his face. making you smile in return and he whips his head to look at the swings and you followed his sight. there he is, your nightmare. the reason you have your son.

the temperature drops with every second as the wind blows stronger. you hugged your son tighter to you. your body freezing with your mind telling you to run and with a deep breath. you squeezed your son before taking a step backwards and turning around. never looking back.

he watched as his son went to you and you picking him up and you realizing that he's near you. just within arm's reach and that fear coming from you. good to know he still have a hold on you.

calm down! you tell to yourself while you carried satoshi away from that man. you know you can't hide from him forever. you will just run again. no matter how many times. you did it once — what's the difference of doing it again.

you write a mental note to yourself to pack your bags after this. you're not going back again to him, not with your child. you don't want him to go through the same things he put you through. he was already dead to your son and to you and he's merely a ghost who terrorizes you. when you got home, you made sure to lock all your doors before making dinner and tucking your son to bed and then you grab the bags.

after packing up the last necessities, you slowly trudged your way up to your son's room and your heart drops when you see him looming besides your son's sleeping figure.

“quite bold of you.” he began to speak and your lips tremble. he didn't face you and kept looking at his son. your face bereave with anger. “s—” the words die out before he interrupted you.

“going as far to dye my boy's hair. almost thought he's not mine and thinking you found yourself another man to take care of you. breaks my heart to kill him and take you.” caressing his son's hair. satoshi remained asleep despite the scene unfolding.

“satoshi doesn't need someone like you. we don't need you. stay away from him. from us.” you murmured. careful not to wake satoshi up and find his father. you don't need someone like gojo to be around satoshi.

“can't i?” said satoru. slowly standing up and making his way to you. “cause the last thing i remember, you were still mrs. gojo. pregnant with my baby.” you let out a silent yelp when he suddenly hugged you.

“let go.” you firmly warned him. squirming from his grasp but he only held you tighter. “i won't. now you're here with me. you don't know how much i have missed you.” he breathes out. his hand in the back of your head until it slowly descends on your back. squeezing the dips of your hips and you silently gasp. trying to keep the tears at bay. his nose in the pulse of your neck. breathing in your scent. “you won't deny me.” he whispers and before he could fully go down in you. he hears the bed creak, followed by someone shifting and a sniffle coming from his son. his hold got loose on you and with that, you pushed him off. joining his son in his bed to comfort him.

satoshi sniffles, his eyes fluttering and showing the blues that he inherited from his father. “mama?” he calls you and you immediately shush him. “mama's here, satoshi.” you coo. pulling the covers and tucking it beside you and satoshi latched into you. his eyes beading with tears. “it's just a nightmare, satoshi. nothing's going to hurt you.” you lied. there's only one who could hurt you both. the man who put you in hell for his own. he can do that to satoshi too and you won't let him.

although gojo had longed and wanted to take you there at the moment, he let you tend to his son. set aside the urges of longing for you who left him. a discovery he just had found hours ago. he's a father now. his back presses at the cold wall behind him and he melts at the tender moment before him. this is what you had been doing for the last five years and is it that long. five years. five years had gone by and he missed it. he wasn't there to take care for you and watch his child grow up. you stole the years and the moments where he could be with you and his son.

there's the gnawing feeling that eats him inside. the betrayal simmering in his chest the day you left him, days after he received the news that you were carrying his heir. it feels like an eternity after that.

when satoshi finally settled and you can hear the tiny snores coming from him. you slowly removed yourself from his side. it took awhile to pry his hands clutching your top before replacing it with a pillow. you kiss him in the forehead and it's finally to face him.

you're beneath him. his head hung low while he stares deeply at your eyes. both of your hands are pinned beside you. he glances at your bedside table. littered with pictures of you and satoshi. it makes his heart bleed to see him absent from all of it. he wasn't even there to see satoshi as a baby, taking his first step and see him grow to what he is now. it's all because you choose to leave him.

“you raised satoshi well.”

“i did. i'm not raising satoshi with you around.”

gojo hums, “oh, really? he didn't ask who might be his father is?” quite curious about it and he knows what you're about to answer and you didn't disappoint.

“i did. told his father was dead because you don't exist to us. to satoshi. why bother with us who don't want you?” you bravely stared back at his eyes and you thought this is going to be satoshi when he grows up to be satoru's age.

“i am bothered with it. my wife leaving me out of the blue with my child inside you. i told you, didn't i? i will always find you.”

you take a deep breath to keep the tears from spilling out of you. “five years. five years, satoru. you should have moved on. find another woman who can give what you want.”

“they can't if they are not you. why would I want myself another one when i know my wife and child are alive. how could you be so cruel to me, (y/n). you're my one and only.” gojo holds your cheek in his one hand while his eyes roam to your face and then landing in your lips.

he's been dying to kiss you for a long time and he can do it again. it feels like the first time he had kissed you. soft. gentle and sweet. it hurt him a bit to see you bite your lips with your eyes closed but he didn't care. he knows this was also the same way you reacted when you both created satoshi.

a familiar warmth creep up on him. his once cold heart melting at the contact of your lips against his. heart thrumming in slow beats. shallow breaths fans your skin and he gazes at you, with the same adoration present in the blues of his eyes.

“leave, satoru.” you protested but gojo ignores it. “no, i won't. you're stuck with me.” you cry softly when he kisses you again. hands wandering all over your body and whispering filth of how he missed your body.

“satoshi's sleeping next room.” he shushes you. “i know, that's why we have to keep quiet. you sure can manage that, mochi?” he didn't change with his nicknames and you were left weak and hopeless against his touches.

that night he ravaged you. marking the expanse of your skin. praising how you were still his wife and you never changed. the plushness of your body and just everything about you. motherhood is kind to you. he says. your body is made for him, nurturing his child and you freeze when he talks about putting one on you again. saying that he will give the next his all love with you present and you will both take care of satoshi and his sibling. you were terrified. tasting freedom once and he's back on you again to take it. escaping will be harder and you don't think it'll allow you with again.

in a blink of an eye, you were in your own prison again. you find yourself staring at the familiar garden and you think five years will change it. he kept it the same as the last when you left with promises that you will both be watching as your children played.

satoshi's hair had gone to its natural color. he's the spitting image of his father much to his delight but his child remained wary of him. even he's staring at the older image of him. he remained by your side.

“will i have a baby brother, mama?” he asks you while you were resting. “i don't know, satoshi. do you want a baby brother?” caressing your swollen belly and you fought the tears. satoshi noticing the tears pooling in your eyes, instantly expresses his concern. “no...no. mama is just a bit tired, satoshi. don't you worry about it, okay?” you assure him. “is it the baby?” you nodded at his question. he pouts at your answer. “then i don't want a baby brother.... or a sister!” he exclaims before jumping to hug you.

“satoshi, don't be mean to your baby brother or sister.” your husband pulls satoshi from you. “i hate who makes mama cry.” gojo chuckles at him. “me too, satoshi. let's protect your mama, shall we?” he embraces your son. satoshi nods, and you die a little inside.

you will spend the next years playing house with him with a new addition to this family. you still can't accept this. his words haunts you and you just can't.

gojo caresses your belly. looking at you with a smile on his face. “can't wait for this little one to arrive.” he says to you and you crack a smile at him. the thought of escape no longer lingers in your mind. not that you can think when you have a child with him and one coming.

NANAMI KENTO

nanami didn't take you leaving him to be so distressing. his life revolving around you and a baby on the way. it's going to be complete. a life with you and it took one night for you to leave him without a trace and so he goes back to working overtime.

the first days were grueling. searching for everywhere. going as far in finding information with your relatives who had given up on finding you. there's no sign of you. he spent the days and night thinking about you. worried about how you're doing without him. what about the baby? if the baby was to survive and reach the age of consciousness will his child think of him? the thoughts are endless and he don't think he can live another day without you.

the fluorescent lights are too bright for his eyes that has been drowned by the darkness of his room. his headaches becoming unbearable as the minute passes by and the stench of the hospital adding to his already dulled senses. cheeks hollowed with his sunken eyes. dragging his step to move forward. he shouldn't be here but if he wants to continue his job, a prescription would be nice from a professional.

after a scolding from the older doctor, balding with a pot belly. yapping about his health while he wrote his prescription. consisting of vitamins and stuff he didn't bother to read cause he will only give it to the pharmacist and continue his own source of living.

he was nearing the exit when a particular sign caught his sight. pediatric & maternity ward. he stops for a moment. wondering if you were here and he's accompanying you to get the first check up of your pregnancy and then an appointment for your ultrasound. hear the first heartbeat of his child and know the due date of you giving birth.

it's almost a year since you left him and he was to blame. nanami knows it was wrong to keep you for himself. telling that the outside world is dangerous for someone like you and he's facing the consequences of hurting you.

you must have given birth at this day and the baby must be four-months old. his heart grows heavy the more he thinks of you and his child. he began to walk away, the ward giving him pain and the regrets showing up. before he could step outside the doors from the ward opens and he hears a voice that he misses dearly.

when he turned around, he had to rubbed his eyes to ensure his vision wasn't playing him. there you stood, a nurse assisting you and talking on what he can assume as good wishes to you.

his breath hitches and when the nurse bid you farewell before going back to her duties. you smile back at the nurse and your attention is back in your baby. adjusting the blanket to provide warmth for the infant and when you were contented from it, you raised you head to look at your way. beginning to walk and you notice him.

you stopped when you recognize him. out of all the places to meet him, a hospital it is. worst is — you have your baby with you. hesitating to move forward or turn around and look for a another exit but it's him. it's nanami. you couldn't forget him and his ways of making you feel trapped.

what feels like an eternity and standing like a statue you continued to walk. abandoning the fear of being under him again. you could just ignore him and go home and so you did.

it hurts so much to let you go and he didn't have the strength to confront you. knowing that you'll run again and he don't want to scare you and make things worst. it pains him and yet, he was at peace. a heavy weight being lifted from his chest and he thinks he can breath properly again.

it took him awhile to get back in his daily routine when you were still around. he'd gotten better. there's no longer the dark lines under his eyes and he seems productive nowadays. he knows you won't take him back and he can't do that again to you. he won't give you a reason to loathe him again — not when his child is present in both of your lives.

he got your address effortlessly and now, he's standing in front of your door. holding a bouquet of flowers and he's adjusting his tie before knocking in your front door. he hears the shuffle of feet and the lock clicking. revealing yourself in front of him.

in a span of a year, you slowly managed to get back on your feet. body aching while you wash yourself clean and heal the wounds you inflicted in yourself while you were in his captivity. you needed to change — if you were going to bring this baby in the world. a brand new start for yourself.

when you met him that day at the hospital with his child cradled in your arms. it won't be too long for him to get you back and you feared for the safety of your child. you know nanami isn't that heartless but considering how could he be selfish at times — you knew what fate would await for your daughter.

not until he came knocking at your door. you weren't prepared for it and you did what only you can do — shut the door. it didn't happen, his arm blocking the door. “please, darling. let me explain.” he pleaded and it kinds of break your heart to hear him pleading but you're too hurt to give in. “leave us alone, kento.” you say to him but he's persistent.

he won't be leaving anytime soon, you think and maybe he'll force his way and escalate into something that can harm you or your child and you give in. you pull the door open and nanami sighs in relief when you opened the door for him.

“what do you want?” you bite your tongue when you said it. he didn't need to answer, you know what he wants.

“can we talk?” although he's a little worried about how you will react about it considering his past mistakes and he knows you're not going to open up at him anytime soon.

he didn't missed the change in your attitude. what hostility forming into you change into something of a hesitation. chewing into your lips as you decide whether you were ready to talk to him until you nodded. granting him to explain what he was about to say to you.

“come inside.” you softly mutter as you turned your back around him.

the full force of his regrets came crashing down at him from how the way you treat him. a reflection of how he badly treated you from shielding you against the world when it was him who was truly hurting you.

“so...” you started to speak at him. “what brings you here?” why are you this!? you thought to yourself. screaming internally at the the questions you were asking to him. how come you are this weak when it comes to this. you needed to be strong. prepare for the worst.

“you. i came here for you and for the baby. forgive me, darling but is the baby mine?”

you flinch when he questioned your baby's parentage and the bottled up feelings you were suppressing instantly bursting into the scene.

“is the baby yours?...” your words drawl out. “is the baby yours!? i didn't know that you could be this stupid, kento?! you kept me chained for years and knocked me up with your baby and you question me about her! how could you....?” so much for suppressing the feelings you couldn't say to him for a long time.

a wave of regret washes over him and you were right. he is stupid. you were crying because of him again. you were shaking like a leaf while tears continuously flowing out from your eyes. your sobs are muffled and tears are soaking his shirt. his chin resting in the top of your head while he held you close. he wishes he could take your pain. redeem himself from his old ways of treating you bad.

“you come here telling me you want me back and you want to be a part of her life.....” days. nights. you were thinking of him despite what he had done to you. “i told you, i didn't want her. didn't want a child for me to raise... cried myself to sleep every night after escaping you.” it was true. how you feel your baby growing inside you every seconds of your life, it terrified you. thinking how can you raise the baby.

kento's eyes softened. he didn't know it would hurt so much like he felt when you left him. you were getting the brunt of it more than he did. he thinks back from the days of how he treated you and the whole duration of your pregnancy and you giving birth alone. you must been so scared and alone.

all of that, the words of what you said sinking deeper in his skin. remorse and regret is evident in his face while he held you.

“i didn't know.” he whisper, his voice above a breath. “i didn't know you felt that way, darling.” the endearment of what he used to call you and calling you again with it again cause more tears to spring in your eyes. oh, how you love and hate him at the same time.

“i didn't know i could hurt you this bad, i—i was only thinking that if i have you back, everything will be fine. i didn't realize i was hurting you this much.”

he slowly moves away from you. reaching tentatively to hold your hands and his heart breaks to see the face he loves so much to be this hurt. “i want to make things right, darling.” there's a slight tremor in his voice. “i know i can't undo what i had done to you, but please, let me be here for you, for our child.” he holds your hands gently. “i'll do whatever to earn your forgiveness.” you were taken aback from all of it but deep down you could never trust him or forgive him. you didn't respond and you can only shake your head not until you hear crying in the nursery room where your baby sleeps.

“if you want to be better, leave us.” you began to walk away and as much nanami wants to snatch you again, you stop in your tracks. “and maybe, i'll let you back to us.”

“for now.” you added.

he kept true to his words. it's hard but it can never compare of what you had been through and he respects the boundary you were setting. he sent you flowers during the time he wasn't around and it was not enough, he needed to see you and when he did, he was granted to see his daughter, hold her in his arms.

the baby looks like you except for the blonde hair and it was just like he dreamt. a family with you. she's perfect. perfect as her mother who graced him with her presence and this baby, he will protect this child with you.

he finds you crying. masking it as dust getting in your eyes but nanami knows you like the back of his hand. after tucking his daughter back to her crib, he joins you. sitting beside you and it broke his heart a million pieces knowing you were still in the process of forgiving him.

he's a father now but he is still your husband. “i'm so sorry, darling.” he whispers, holding your hand in his. pulling you closer to rest your head in his shoulder but nanami had longed to kiss you again.

he cups your face in his hands. caressing your round cheeks and despite wanting to recoil from his touch and avoid his gaze, some part of you wants to be held like this and you can't lie to yourself that you missed him despite everything. tough love it was or is it there still love in that?

“let me make it up you.” you shaked your head. closing your eyes and a tear escaped from the corner of your eye. nanami frowns. sighing before pressing his forehead into yours for a moment before pulling away to kiss your forehead.

this is nothing, he will endure it for a very long time until he can be yours again.

TOJI FUSHIGURO

he call it a happy accident. toji happens to beat that self-proclaimed sorcerer piece of shit and now, that shit is meeting his creator. he pays the body no mind when that weather wallet of this weakling drops beside his body. well, it's not the body is only cold. he expects to find some cold, hard cash there and he gets more than that. a picture of his wife and toji clicks his tongue. kicking the son of a bitch's body. annoyed that his wife is playing house with a another man that didn't even manage to put a scratch on him.

an idea appeared in his mind and toji smirks. he could pay this wife of his a visit. you would be so happy to meet him.

he came knocking at your door and the look you expressed is the best you can ever muster in a true horror of him finding you, it didn't disappoint.

“hey there wife. remember me?” he said in the most cocky voice he can muster and look at you, you're almost shaking in your boots but toji is surprised as you are when you were holding a toddler in your arms. a dead ringer of him. round, emerald eyes with the same eyelashes and face as his. clutching your blouse with a pacifier in his mouth.

his sight narrows to his son and to you. his once surprised face being replaced with a bored look and you couldn't even bring yourself to close the door. you don't know what he's thinking and so he got you when you're weak.

“you birthed a brat and it's mine?” it's not a question really when he comes doing this. his hard body pressed against your soft one. trapped in the cold table where you prepare him tea. insisting that he's a guest in your house and you must be a good host to serve him.

toji sighs, a low grunt coming from him. “you could be so mean if you want to. hiding my child and you come playing house with a man you replaced me with.” your blood runs cold with every words he said and the hands wandering all over your body until it came creeping below your blouse and his rough hands are squeezing the flesh of your stomach. you closed your eyes shut.

“he's a good man. which you will never be and you killed him.” your lungs contracts before releasing a breath that will took you days, months or for years to tell him that and you said it in one breath.

his eyebrows twitch. a look of disdain dawning in his face. just because you tasted freedom and you're acting like a goddamn independent bitch. you deserved to be punished.

the tea's now forgotten cold. you're pinned in the counter top with toji's cupping your jaw in a deathly grip. the skin of your wrist turning into a another shade. the circulation cut off and it begins to numb.

“who said about me being good man? he's a weakling who can't even protect himself and that weakling lead me to you and you're his what? his bitch? a body to warm his bed? when you should be doing it to mine!? you're one ungrateful bitch.” toji chuckles and he smirks triumphantly.

“my kindness needs to be paid, princess.” and here he goes calling you with the spiteful nickname to you.

he didn't give you the time to reply and forcefully kissed you. you almost choked at his whole body weight crushing your own. you couldn't even move your face to the side and reject that kiss of him. you didn't need him and your mind froze thinking of megumi.

you don't want him to see you in this position with his father. you kissed back, giving him what he wants so you can tell him. resistance is futile with megumi present in your life now.

toji grunts. you can feel him smile against your lips and when he breaks the kiss. you stare at him with your eyes pleading. “megumi.” and toji got the message of what you're talking. he glances at the door of the kitchen and he can the tiny shadow of his son walking, although a little wobbly and using the walls to balance himself. he scoffs at his son, ruining his reunion with his mother and toji is quite annoyed by it but it didn't stop him from feeling proud of birthing his son.

toji lets you free and your knees wobbled, giving out on you and you were left kneeling at the cold floor. megumi spotted you and in his own steps made his way to you in which you hugged him tightly.

“you ain't going to introduce him to his old man, wife?” you pursed your lips at his question and ignored him. rubbing megumi's back and shutting his father out and it ticked toji to just take his son away from you but resisted the urge to do so. knowing he can use this to keep you to him again. you would be so obedient with a little threat.

“careful now. you don't want me taking our little megumi away from you.” he warns. “now, put megumi to sleep and we can continue this little reunion of ours.” you nodded and you immediately scamper away from him and you see the front door. you can run but he'll catch you. you accepted your fate now and you would take the brunt of his punishments cause you're a disobedient wide who didn't care about your husband's desire.

it would be a waste to chain you again. toji thought. you're a mother now and he got a son with you. he don't want any interfering from how you will raise his son. he couldn't think about anything and maybe after you put megumi to sleep. he could think the ways he could keep you by his side again. for now, he'll just be a little patient and he can have you again for himself again.

GETO SUGURU

it was a mix of being ashamed and scared.

you knew this day will come when suguru and his child will reunite once again. the last he seen you was a baby bump visible in your dress in which he was happy. it did take root. a new lineage for the age of sorcerers.

dusk beginning to settle in the skies and you were supposed to fetch your son in the front yard telling that supper is ready and to your surprise. you found suguru standing tall, head low to face your son. a smile plastered in his face the whole time talking to your son and then he notices your stiff figure standing in the pavement before slowly walking towards them.

“i am your father. did your mommy told you that?” he asks and your son is processing what the words could mean. taking a glance between you and to his father. waiting for an answer in which you remained silent and only to tell him to go inside and wait for you.

suguru smiles. the smile that you hadn't seen for years and you can't deny that it still have an effect on you. “missed me, (y/n)?” the curse user spoke to you. his black and long hair swaying in the rhythm of the gentle breeze blowing.

“not really.” you honestly said to him and suguru's eyes changes into something dark from how you responded. “guess you got tired of all that luxury or everything's not enough for you.” he tuts. following the changes that is present in your face but he only received a curt shake of your head.

how shallow is that. you were like a pet to him. something he owned. a possession. he didn't like you being you and so you were lavished with expensive stuff that would keep you chained from the compound and to his little family. family. one you never had and never truly belonged in his place however you laid with him every night and the result, your son. living and breathing.

once you found out you were with child. it was a realization that you were never free and it hit you that this child will suffer the same fate as you and so you walked out. never looking back with the sole intention that you will raise this child with a perspective of the world and not to be influenced. his own and so you lived for years in peace until he showed up.

a shiver went down your spine from the contact of his fingers tracing to your soft jawline. electric and shocking. with a touch you will obey him but it's different. you're a mother now and something so good will only bring you to your own demise and it will extend to your child.

it is but you missed him touching you. a slave for his affections and you weren't really different from your past self. mustering the courage is the same as surrending yourself from the man who you treated as your world.

closing your eyes and you raised your head to meet suguru's eyes. purple it is. “you would understand why i left you, suguru. i can't raise ryū in that place.”

“and you think excluding me from ryū's life will change it?” not breaking eye contact while he caress your round cheek.

“yes. you're mad suguru and i can't change that.”

suguru chuckles. how motherhood impacted your ways of thinking. finding it so endearing to see you standing up and you wouldn't believe it that he's much more in love with your or whatever he was feeling. he knows it's bad for him and to you. “look at that, motherhood did you good. mad? i'll show what's mad, my dear wife.” he leans to whisper something to your ear. “i will let this go once and then prepare yourself. you will be back to me and with ryū, there's no chance of turning your back away from me.” he softly threatens to you and it weighs heavier. a contrast of the mellow tone of voice he was using.

“see you soon, (y/n).” kissing your cheeks before waving a hand to say goodbye to your son who was staring behind the windows.

suguru left after that and you knew what's about to come and you wished none of that will happen but suguru was always true to his words and you abandoned hope.

he will come back.

#♱ ⋮ shai's works⸝⸝#chubby reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x chubby reader #yandere jjk x reader #jjk scenarios #jjk x chubby reader #gojo x reader #yandere gojo x reader #gojo x chubby reader #toji x reader #toji fushiguro #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #nanami x reader #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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horrorhot-line · 3 months

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rafayel's nsfw alphabet

➵ pairing: rafayel x female!reader

➵ word count: 3.3k

➵ genre: nsfw

➵ warnings: minors dni. this post is pure smut, no plot here. slight exhibitionism, sex toys, edging, blindfolding, handcuffs, overstimulation, somnophilia, praise kink, bondage.

➵ summary: pretty self explanatory, the nsfw alphabet on your favourite boy.

➵ xavier's ver. | zayne’s ver.

➵ masterlist (requests are open)

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notes: this one's for you @jaiden-zhou, i was gonna take a break and post these later, but your reblog asking for rafayel and zayne's version meant i got to work right away. hope you enjoy <3333

credit to @multi-fandom-imagine for the template

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➵ a for aftercare (what is he like after sex?) he loves talking after sex. most would get tired after the extracurricular activities, you included, but not rafayel. he loves picking your brain about anything and everything. still semi inside you, lazily thrusting into you as he empties the last of his cum inside you, trailing kisses across your face as he asks you where you'd want to go if the two of you went travelling. he won't admit it, ever- but he does it because he's realised it's when you're the most honest, spent and cheeks still flushed after your orgasms, still delirious after he's fucked the living daylights out of you. he will also never admit, he doesn't want to fall asleep and running his mouth makes sure of that, he doesn't want to risk you leaving him again. "what do you think about the city of love? i'd love to fuck you in paris."

➵ b for body part (his favourite body part of his and also his partner's) he adores your body, you know this, but his absolute favourite part of you is your eyes. no matter how many lifetimes he's spent waiting for you, your eyes are always the same, soft, shining and focused only on him. he loves fucking you, starting off slow as his pelvis collides with your clit and has you seeing stars, he loves the way your gaze focuses on him when he's thrusting into you, pulling out ever so slightly only to snap his hips back into yours. and fuck, does he love the way he gets to watch your eyes roll back. his favourite part about himself is his dick, pretty self-explanatory. he loves the way you tell him his cock is perfect as he fucks into you, pressing the rough of his thumb against your clit as you throw your head back. "you look so pretty like this, drooling all cause of my cock."

➵ c for cum (anything to do with cum, basically) he may have asked if he could use your cum as paint once, promising he'll never let anyone else see his creation apart from you. rafayel loves shoving his cum back inside you when it leaks out, plugging you up with his fingers as he makes sure you don't waste a single drop, ignoring the way you look like absolute sin with tears of overstimulation in your eyes. though, he can't ignore the way his dick hardens again at the way you glow after you've orgasmed, thighs wet with slick and looking so inviting, "one more round? come on, i know you can cum again- do it for me."

➵ d for dirty secret (self-explanatory, a dirty secret of his) if you hadn't guessed it already, rafayel lives for validation- your validation. he'll never admit it; he doesn't want to bruise his ego by telling you how much he likes hearing you whimper and moan. he loves when he first puts his dick inside you, grabbing the hand that reaches out to place itself on his stomach as you struggle to take him in, and he raises that same hand above your head so he can plug your slick pussy with his cock. "ah, ah, ah- you wanted this, can't back out now. instead of trying to stop, why don't you tell me how good my dick feels, hm?"

➵ e for experience (how experienced is he? does he know what he's doing?) he knows his way around, he's watched enough porn when he was researching for an art project of his. the real thing is different though, and he realises that when you're under him, spreading your legs for him, and he finds no matter how hard he tries, you're pussy is just too good. the first round is always quick, but he knows how to work his fingers and his tongue, making sure you cum more times than he can count before he's ready to go again, forcing your legs apart as he raises his top and bites down on it, watching how his dick enters you. "lost for words? why don't you start off by telling me how good i feel?"

➵ f for favourite position (this goes without saying. will probably include a visual) this is a hard one for him, but if he had to choose it would definitely be cow girl. the sight of you riding his dick so well, struggling to take him in, sweat lining your bodies as he grips your tit and watches the other one bounce. he loves the way you lower your chest to his after a few minutes, legs aching, letting him know he can take over. he manages to hit all your sweet spots in this position too, and there's no escape for you as he wraps his arms around you, angling his hips to fuck into you, making sure you feel his tip against your cervix. "tired already? if you wanted me to take over, my love- all you had to do was ask."

➵ g for goofy (is he more serious in the moment, or is he humorous, etc) he knows how to be serious, but if there's a queef, he'll laugh. how can you expect him not to? that, and he likes catching you off gaurd, because when you join him, giggling at his antics, he snaps his hips into yours, setting a brutal pace that has you struggling to catch your breath. "what? you not gonna laugh, anymore? no? didn't think so."

➵ h for hair (how well groomed is he, does the carpet match the drapes) he's always well-groomed. always clean-shaven and there's never a stubble that gives you carpet burn, because he likes to stay on top of it. he wants you to focus on the feel of his dick inside you and nothing else when he's pounding your wet cunt. he treats his body like a temple, basically. "i wanna look good for myself. it has nothing to do with you." (it does.)

➵ i for intimacy (how is he during the moment, romantic aspect…) rafayel acts like he doesn't care about being romantic, but he does. when he's not salty about how you make him wait, he gives you the best treatment, always eating you out first, fingering you until you can't take anymore, begging for him to fill you up with his cock, which he does, rubbing your clit as he rolls his hips into yours, making sure you remember the way his dick feels buried deep inside you. he always makes sure you finish, and he likes to admire the artwork in front of him one he's done, you laying flushed beneath him, lips parted, breathing heavily and still twitching. "you look so pretty when i'm through with you. hey, can i draw you like this? no? just one quick sketch, please…"

➵ j for jacking off (masturbation headcanon) you make him horny 24/7, even when you're not around. he'll be in his studio, casually painting and lounging when you pop into his head, and his mind will drift to all the times you've been underneath him. by the time you've come home to him, he's a needy mess, flushed, dick in his hand already leaking precum as he begs you to help him out because he's been edging himself for hours, waiting for you. "please, my love. i need you."

➵ k for kink (one or more of their kinks) what kinks does he not have? he has a huge praise kink, that's for sure. loves it when you get vocal and tell him how good he feels, how he's too deep and that it's too much, he loves watching you struggle to take him all in, slamming the last few inches in just so he can hear you sob. he's also a huge fan of overstimulation; he loves pushing you past your limits, watching you become a mess as he squeezes out another orgasm with his fingers. he's into bondage too, something about the idea of you being all tied up, looking pretty for him, helpless to what he has in store for you. he's a bit of a switch, too- he loves you taking control when you've had enough of his teasing just so he can roll you over and force you to take his dick. he also adores watching you use him, making yourself feel good with his cock. "you gonna cum, baby? feel good? who knew you'd love my dick this much?"

➵ l for location (favourite places to do the do) he's a bit of an exhibitionist, reckons it comes with the job description of being an artist. so, he likes it anywhere as long as it's you. he has a list of places he'd love to dick you down at, but his favourite would be his art studio. you're his muse, what gives his paintings colour and life, and he loves spreading you across his desk, raising your hips off the table so he can snap his hips into you only to imagine the same scenario as he starts his new piece. he also loves the beach; something about being close to home, the waves around your feet and hands as he bends you over, lifting you by the arm so you're body's flush against his, calloused fingers reaching for your clit. he loves the way he can feel the water against his thighs as you throw your head back against his shoulder, and he can watch your lovely fucked out expression. "told you the sea was warm during the summer. having fun, baby?"

➵ m for motivation (what turns him on, gets him going) just thinking about it gets him horny; you know this already. it doesn't matter where the two of you are, he will borrow your hole to empty his load, whining and teasing you until you give in, finding the nearest secluded place before pulling his pants down and sliding your panties to the side. you have this effect on him, he can't control himself, and he blames you for it, something he lets you know often as he fucks you from behind, grabbing your tit in one hand, arm under your shoulder and across your chest to lock you in place so you can't run, "it's all your fault for turning me on. that means it's your responsibility to help me out."

➵ n for nicknames (what are his favourite pet names for you? what does he call you when you're both alone?) he calls you 'my love.' a lot- something about your heart being his. he likes calling you his, repeating the words "mine, mine, mine." as he's fucking into you before his lips latch onto yours, swallowing your moans and desperate cries. he does like to use babe when he's teasing you or being mean as payback for you making him wait, rubbing your swollen clit, grabbing the wrist that reaches out to stop him as he rolls his hips into yours, "come on babe, i know you have more left in you. cum one more time for me- yeah?"

➵ o for oral (preference in giving or receiving, skills, etc) he loves receiving but will never pester you for it. he'll ask, but if you say no, then so be it. when you do agree, though, he'll shove himself as deep as he can go, hissing as his tip kisses the back of your throat, running his fingers through your hair before wiping away the stray tear going down the side of your temple, smiling down at you as he reaches over to plug his fingers in your pussy, stretching you out as you choke on his dick. "don't cry, my love. save your tears for when i fill you up. not long now, i know you can do it."

➵ p for pace (is he fast or rough? slow or sensual?) he's not slow, but he is sensual. setting a brutal pace that has you falling off the edge and clenching your thighs as your orgasm hits you, before slowing down his thrusts and taking his time, letting you ride out your high before he's fucking into you again, squeezing your ass and moving you up and down his dick so his cock reaches the deepest it can inside you. "you're mine, yeah? fuck, you're so tight. 'm gonna cum inside you."

➵ q for quickie (his opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc) yes, the answer is yes anytime that word is used in a sentence. he'll wait for you to initiate unless you make him horny, which is more often than not- he loves subtly teasing you, hands finding their way into your panties underneath tables, fingers tracing your hips, feather-light touches across your thighs to let you know he needs you, leading you to wherever's semi-decent before he's shoving your clothes aside, bending you over and kicking your legs apart so he can fuck you until he's satisfied. "you're gonna have to cover again with thomas for me, babe. this is all you, you know? wearing those thigh highs- thinking i wouldn't react."

➵ r for risk (is he game to experiment, does he take risks, etc) definitely game to experiment, he adores finding new ways to pull reactions out of you. the first time he tried fluffy handcuffs and a blindfold on you, he swore it was the hardest he'd ever been. he was in awe, starstruck, watching you twitch at the slightest touch, looking all pretty and helpless. you were at his mercy, and it made his cock twitch. the wait was worth it, though- after he was done using his fingers to push you over the edge enough times, he lined himself up with your pussy, and hissed at the way he slid right in. buried completely inside you, he held your hips up as he started fucking you, realising you were louder when your sight was covered. "who knew you'd like being used? since you enjoy it so much, why don't we do this more often?"

➵ s for stamina (how many rounds can he go for, how long does he last) you usually lose track after the 7th to 8th round, mind blank after he's pulled another orgasm from you, towering over your spent body, a smug smile on his face as he pulls his dick out of you, slapping it against your slick pussy a few times, before shoving it back in completely, with no warning. he will quite literally fuck you until you pass out. "come on, babe. keep your eyes open, and on me- i know you can go one more round."

➵ t for toy (does he own toys? does he use them? partner or himself?) he owns quite a few, most are in the first drawer of his bedside table, the others are scattered across his mansion. he likes buying them to see how you react, keeping the ones you enjoy the most. his favourites are the ones that focus on your clit, he loves fucking you when he uses them, feeling your pussy spasm around him as you cum again. he does own a pussy pocket and uses it often when you're away. also, he's definitely asked if he can have one moulded to the shape of your cunt specifically.

➵ u for unfair (how much does he like to tease) he's very unfair, often teasing you as payback for all the years you've made him wait for you, thumb hovering over your clit as he stops you from orgasming, halting his thrusts as he watches you try and grind against his dick. he turns your head to him and kisses you, mouth swallowing your complaints and sobs as he watches you twitch from overstimulation. he breaks the kiss only to fuck into you nice and slow, building up the pace before he's slamming into you from behind, arms wrapping around you when you try to crawl away from him with how sensitive you are. "what now, my love? you can't move, poor thing. try and escape me this time."

➵ v for volume (how loud is he? what sounds does he make?) he loves being vocal, letting you know just how good you feel as he manages to stuff his dick in your tight cunt, tip kissing your cervix as you double over at the feeling of being so full. he'll pull you right back up against his chest, not letting you catch your breath as he starts fucking into you, fingers flicking your hardened nipples, hands squeezing your tits as he moans in your ear. doesn't help that he sounds like pure sin, and his moans alone have you tightening around his cock. "fuuuck, you have no idea how good you feel. you're so wet, baby… feeling good? yeah? i know i am."

➵ w for wildcard (random headcanon for him) you agree to it after he gives you the pros and cons, and find that he uses it every chance he gets. you didn't expect this out of him, but this man really wants to fuck you in your sleep. just something about the idea of having his way with you when you're not conscious. that, and he gets horny during the night and doesn't wanna wake you just to fuck you. he'd much rather finger you until you're ready to take him, stirring in your sleep but not fully awake as he rubs his dick along your pussy, using your slick to lube himself up before he's lining himself up and shoving his dick in, inch by inch. he'll rolls his hips experimentally, and moan softly in your ear. he waits for you to wake up, dazed and disoriented as your brain catches up, before he slams his dick completely into you, not giving your confused mind the chance to register your arousal as he starts rubbing your clit, teasing an orgasm out of you the minute you're up. "there she is. how'd you like your wake-up call, babe?"

➵ x for x-ray (what's going on in those pants of his) his dick is perfect, no, really. it is the most gorgeous dick you have ever seen, not a hair in sight, and his tip is the prettiest pink colour, all flushed from how turned on he gets because of you. he's circumcised, hates the idea of his penis ever getting dirty or smelling, that- and he reckons it makes it easier for you to suck him off. he has length and girth, not too big that it hurts but enough that you can feel him in your gut when he's inside you.

➵ y for yearning (how high is his sex drive) very high, no matter how many times he fucks you, he can never get enough. rafayel loves the feel of your pussy, maybe more than the feel of a paintbrush in his hand when he has newfound motivation to finish a project, and he enjoys having his way with you whenever he wants. if he's ready to go, it means you'll soon follow. you can't refuse him when his touch trails across your bare skin, hands down your panties and fingers shoved two digits deep inside you, teasing and edging you until you give in to his need to fuck. "you can't blame me- it's your fault for looking so pretty, all fucked up like this. 'm gonna mark you up, let everyone know you're mine."

➵ z for zzz (how quickly does he fall asleep afterwards) he wants to fall asleep right after he's done with you, having spent most of his energy fucking you until you're leaking his cum all over the bed sheets, but he likes staying awake until you pass out, idle talk lulling you to slumber as he brushes your hair out your face and behind your ear, watching the soft rise and fall of your chest before he pulls you into his arms and rests his cheek against your tits. "you're asleep already? …i love you."

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The following content is protected under copyright laws. do not copy, modify, repost on other sites or claim as your own.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel love and deepspace x reader #rafayel x reader #rafayel love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #smut

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brehaaorgana · 4 months

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ADHD money/budgeting system I'm currently using for my benefit is going well (I've been using it for like half a year now?), and I wanna recommend it.

You Need a Budget is EXCELLENT. 10/10 do recommend. Uhhh rambling about it and my generic disclaimers + gushing extensively under the cut but TL;DR I think it's great for ADHD ppl, I've used it for 6+ months now and I find it super SUPER helpful. also weirdly fun.

DISCLAIMERS:

Budgeting helps you understand/know your money, it can't make money appear where there is none.

Everyone should learn to budget even if you don't have much money (especially then)

This is NOT a magic trick solution. Just like everything else, it is an assistive tool. This is one of those adult things we can't simply opt out of without negative consequences, though.

My advice is based on something I am currently able to do. That is, I can spend an amount of money on this specific thing that works well for me. If you have no extra money to spend then previously I was tracking things in a notebook. So you can still do this.

I believe Dave Ramsey is a fundie fraud/hack and no one should listen to him about money.

DID YOU KNOW THEY CANCELLED MINT???

Okay? OKAY.

Ahem.

You Need a Budget is EXCELLENT.

It is called YNAB for short. The first 34 days are your free trial, and that is my referral link. If anyone uses it and then signs up for a subscription, we both get a month free. Also you can share a subscription with up to six people (account owner can see everything but individuals can pick and choose what they share amongst each other) so like...idk your whole polycule can be on one account. Or your kids. Whatever.

If you are a student, it's free for a year. If you aren't, a subscription is $99 for a year (paid all at once) or $14.99 monthly, which is equivalent to paying Amazon prime. Go cancel Prime and get this instead tbh.

They got a whole article just on ynab and ADHD. They also have like...a big variety of ways to access their info? They have a book, podcast episodes, YouTube videos, blog posts, q&A's, free live workshops you can join (you can request live captioning), emails they can send (if you want) a wiki, and so on. They got workshops on all kinds of topics!!

So whatever ends up working for your brain. It also has a matching app.

If you lost Mint this year they have a gajillion things for moving from Mint.

Also they have a "got five minutes?" Page which has a slider so you can decide how much attention/time you have before going on lol:

They only have 4 rules of the budget, they're simple and practical, and it doesn't get judgey or like...mean about your spending.

1. Give every dollar a job 2. Embrace your true expenses 3. Roll with the punches 4. Age your money.

THEN THEY BREAK THESE DOWN INTO SMALL STEPS FOR YOU! They even have a printable! Also these rules are great because there's built in expectations that things WILL HAPPEN and it's NOT all or nothing with a fear of total collapse into failure. Reality and The Plan don't always align, especially if you have ADHD. So it's directing our energy towards the true expenses and not clinging to The Plan!! over reality.

You can automate a lot of shit (you can sync with your bank accounts just like mint, but also automate tagging the categories of regular expenses/transactions). And if for whatever reason you accidentally do something that makes the budget look weird or wrong:

A) you can usually fix it somehow OR b) they have like, a button you can press that gives you a clean slate and archives the previous version of the budget for you.

So if you forget for a few weeks or months, or accidentally input something wildly wrong, or just don't want to look at a really terrible month anymore and feel like you need a fresh start you can usually either fix it or start fresh which is really nice.

The app also (for whatever reason) scratches my itch to have things like...have incentives or little game-like goals in a way mint never did? I don't know why. Filling up the bars or putting money into the categories to cover my expenses is satisfying lmao. You can also make a big wish expense category for all the fun shit you want, and fund it whenever you can and then you can see the little bar go up and that's fun.

Anyways I've been using it for like 6+ months now and I think it's really helped me when I use it.

#adhd #adhd money #adult adhd #ynab #adhd blogging

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kathaynesart · 5 months

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Replica Holiday Special Winners!

Happy Holidays everyone! It's that time of year and you know what that means! Time to announce the winners for the DTIYS Replica Holiday Special Cover!

I received so many wonderful submissions. Far more than I had anticipated! They were all so unique and creative and it was an absolute joy to look at each and every one of them! I really underestimated however how difficult it would be to choose with them all being so unique from each other. In the end, I decided to gauge the top picks on how well their cover captured the "essence" of what this Special is going to be like! Without further ado, here are the winners.

HONORABLE MENTION - @matchstique

Buddy! I love this piece so dang much! It has so much character and perfectly displays the wacky hijinks we can expect as well as the huge amount of stress our poor boys are under during these trying, pregnancy times. The movement and colors work so well and make me excited for what comes next! Seldom do I see pregnant females shown as the badasses they are, but you have gone and turned Cassandra into an absolute icon with this piece! Bless you!

3RD PLACE - @thegunnsara

Sara, the shear amount of craft you put into your art is STAGGERING. Every scuff on Raph's shell and wisp of smoke screams of a quality I can only hope to attain someday. I literally want to be you when I grow up! That said, the concept of this piece is also fantastic. One of the things I'm must excited about for this Special is getting to see Raph and Casey as they were and witnessing the strong bond they share. I love them dearly and this cover captures their strength and tenacity so perfectly. Gods among men.

2ND PLACE - @cupcakeslushie

Slushie, this cover is so damn fun and dynamic that I can't stop looking at it! Your attention to detail and composition are masterful and the fact that you could fit such a bombastic battle into such a limited space speaks to how crazy talented you are! You also do a wonderful job of retaining both the intensity of the apocalypse but also that playful edge that Rise always manages to retain! It's definitely the cover that would catch my eye on a shelf and make me want to turn the page to see what happens next!

1ST PLACE - @abbeyofcyn

Cyn, the moment I saw this cover, I gasped! It's funny because this is both a piece I could have totally seen myself doing had I done the cover, yet crafted in a unique way I could have never come up with on my own! On top of that, this slick composition scratches my little designer brain juuust right. The use of the hands motif is such a great element because to me, it encapsulates the conflicting themes of family/parenthood with the drama of what it means to be human. On top of that, having each character as one of the digits both connected to and encircling Casey is such a wonderful touch that really drives the symbolism home. Somehow, you managed to peer into the future and perfectly capture how the finale of this special is going to feel. Thank you so much Cyn for such a wonderful piece!

~~~~~~~~~

Now that I think about it, looking back on these winners as a set, all four them actually do an amazing job as individual covers for each of the four "acts" that will make up this special. That was not at all my intention, but it kind of worked out perfectly for that. Gets me all emotional!

I also definitely want to put a spotlight on the other amazing submissions, many of which made it SO close to the top slots! I was going to post these pieces individually but I was worried people wouldn't then go to their blogs to view the covers, so instead have a compilation and links to the full versions! Please check out everyones amazing covers and give them some love. They all worked really hard and it means so much to me. Thank you everyone!

@dreamundraws - LINK @honeylief - LINK @gemini-forest - LINK @memorydarkness - LINK @skullythefriendlyskullface - LINK @v-albion - LINK @its-wabby-stuff - LINK @yris-latteyi - LINK @reagi-df - LINK @chaoscontrol50 - LINK / LINK @murasakibonnet - LINK @hitwiththetmnt - LINK @xandriagreat - LINK @karonkar - LINK @sunydays - LINK (sorry my dear, yours did not appear on my hashtag reference at first! D: But still love it!) @quailaz - LINK @delicatechildwitch - LINK

Thank you again all of you! You all did such an amazing job!

#replica dtiys #replica #rottmnt replica #holiday speical #rottmnt #save rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt #not my art

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olsenmyolsen · 3 months

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A Sokovian Flower

master list

dark master list

Post Age of Ultron MCU (Female Reader X Wanda Maximoff)

Summary: Wanda wanted a tattoo, which led her to you.

Word Count: 4.1K

Content: Mentions of Sokovia, Wanda's Parents, and dead Pietro. But fluff!

Wanda Maximoff was nervous.

She had never done something like this before.

Her stomach was in knots, and she had no one to blame but herself. Well, she could blame Petiro, but that would be unfair. She could blame Natasha, but that would only end up with her ass hitting the floor. So that wasn't an option.

Anyways, like stated before... Wanda had no one to blame but herself.

But Wanda really, really, really wanted THIS tattoo!

She had thought about it for the last four months since the fall of her home country and relocation to the States. She wanted something that was her own. Something that would pay tribute.

Wanda eventually decided on the national flower of Sokovia.

For her parents and brother.

But as Wanda bites her lip and waits for you to come out from the back, does she now realize that she has to go through with it.

This is going to be on my body forever. But that's what I want, right?

Wanda keeps going back and forth in her own mind. Her eyebrows scrunching and lifting up. Her fingers crossing over one another.

Wanda closes her eyes and breathes out. She calms herself down.

Yep, I can't do this!

Wanda picks up her ID and goes to turn around just when you come out from the back.

Wanda barely made eye contact with you before, but now she sees you and feels her mouth go dry.

The first place her eyes go to are your ears. Full of silver. Very reminiscent of Natasha. Wanda's eyes then travel down your sharp jawline to the holes in your black shirt, exposing your soft skin before they land on the art covering your arms.

Wanda loves the stars and hearts filling the space between your larger pieces.

Wanda brings her eyes back up to you as she realizes that you're speaking to her. Your voice is gentle.

"Are you having second thoughts?" You ask, making Wanda open and close her mouth.

You're not an idiot. You can see the worry and nerves dancing over the face across from you. It's clearly her first time, and you feel bad that she has no friend or anyone else here with her.

You also noticed her checking you out, but it happens, so you let it slide.

"Ummm, yeah. I'm sorry." Her soft voice quietly speaks up. And you're not sure how you missed it earlier, but you hear her accent.

You love it.

You smile at her words and nod your head before turning around to grab your tablet. Wanda watches you turn back and lay it next to the blank form she had yet to fill out.

"Wanda, right?" You ask as you look up from the email she had written a few days prior. She nods her green eyes at you before crossing her arms over her body.

Black nail polish catches your eye. It goes well with her black hoodie, skirt, and thigh-high socks.

You look back down as she steps closer to the counter. "Ah, the flower... here it is." Wanda watches you fly from the email to a saved folder of your drawings. There, she watches you move your pen to three different versions of the flower. Each one having more detail than the last.

You turn the tablet over to show her.

"I hope you don't mind, but I added more detail. I think it looks very pretty with the shading and linework in the leaves." You point to the second drawing as Wanda smiles. Her green eyes dance from one to the next.

"They're amazing." She says with awe in her words without looking up. She lifts her hands over the third design. It has tiny stars and sparkles around the flower, as well as a diamond design behind the main piece.

Wanda lifts her head to you, and your eyes trace her face in a second.

She's gorgeous, and when she smiles, you smile.

"I- uh-" You pull your eyes away and turn the tablet around before you fumble and grab the form for her to sign. "I- um, if you want to go through with it." You lift your eyes and smile. "You'll need to sign this." Wanda reaches up and grabs the form. "And I'll need your ID to make a photocopy." Wanda looks up, and you see her decide her eyes. "Okay."

Wanda hands you her ID before she takes a seat at the couch near the counter to fill out the form. Before placing her ID in the printer, you take a glance at it.

She wears a pout in her photo that makes you hold back a laugh. She looks so cute. You then quickly glance around the ID before placing it down and hitting print.

When you turn around, you see Wanda finishing up her signature as she bites her lip. Her pretty pink lips.

You then look away and catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror in the corner.

You had to get a hold of yourself.

She was a paying customer, not a random girl across the bar. However, it's not like that has worked out well for you before. Ex-girlfriends and all.

You shrug and return to grab the copy of Wanda's ID and her physical one.

"Here you go." She lays the form down on the counter as you hand back her ID. She quickly places it in her small red wallet before gazing at you. "I can show you to the table and let you get comfortable as I prepare the stencil."

Wanda nods, and you notice her hands pull at the end of her sleeves. "It'll be fine." You whisper and nod at her before leading her to your section of the shop.

It's a cute corner full of all your favorite photos, knickknacks, and collectibles from over the years.

The owner is your former mentor and teacher. And usually, on a Saturday morning, the shop would be busy, but for some reason, it's just you and Wanda.

Not that the brunette minded. Obviously. The fewer people around, the better.

So, as you slid into your chair and hit a few buttons on the machine, Wanda stood by the table with the sheet on it.

As the stencil finished printing, you turned back. "Oh shoot. I'm sorry." You got up with a laugh. "Would you like a water or soda or anything?" Wanda was about to shake her head before she looked over your face.

Yeah, she was thirsty.

"A water. Please." You smiled at her command. "Of course." You turned and bent down to the mini fridge at your feet. You pulled out a water bottle and got up before handing it to her. "Thank you." She replied as she took it.

"You can set it down right here." You pointed to a spot on the cart next to the table that Wanda would be laying on soon. "And anytime you need to take a break or have a sip of water. Whatever. During the tattoo, say something, and I'll stop." You made sure Wanda found your eyes. "Okay?" You asked again until she nodded. "Okay."

You closed your mouth and turned back to the stencil to hold in a "good girl."

Wanda's eyes went wide as she blushed.

She definitely didn't mean to hear that!

"Okay..." You cleared your throat and held up two different sizes. "We can place them, and then you can decide which size you want or-"

"That one." Wanda cut you off as she stepped closer to the one in your right hand. "This is perfect." She said under her breath, but you heard her, and it made you smile. "This one." She said as her eyes found yours.

You nodded. "Let's do it." You placed the smaller stencil down. "Okay, and placement... you didn't say on the from."

Wanda sheepishly nodded. "I was thinking my back..." You nodded. "Okay." But when Wanda didn't move, that's when you put two and two together. "Oh, sorry! I'll give you some space." You went to get up and walk away after drawing the curtain to your space close, but Wanda, without thinking, grabbed your arm and stopped you. "I wasn't thinking earlier and-" Wanda stopped herself with a sigh before she laughed.

Angelic.

Wanda's lips spread into a broader smile. You saw her begin to come out of her shell just a little more.

"I'm not wearing a bra." She said before she bit her bottom lip and looked away.

You could tell she was trying to hide her embarrassment. So you reached your hand to the one she had on your arm. "That's okay." You said before you moved your thumb over her knuckle.

Butterflies flew in both of your stomachs.

"May I?" You ask as you lifted your hand off of hers. Wanda nodded and watched your eyes lift themselves to her hoodie zipper. She felt your thumb brush the skin just below her neck.

Soft was her skin, but Wanda felt it burn once your touch left her.

And then you moved the zipper south just the tiniest bit before Wanda lifted her eyes to yours. "I-or- uh, you can unzip it a-and turn it around so the back of the hoodie covers your front."

Wanda heard you stumble and watched how your eyes looked her face up and down. She enjoyed it.

"I can do that." You smiled back and removed yourself from the room to give Wanda privacy.

Less than a minute later, she called you back in. She had her arms over her body as she held the hoodie close to her front. Meanwhile, Wanda's back was exposed to you, and you could see a faint tan line and several moles and beautiful tiny freckles along her body.

"You okay?" You asked as you put a pair of new gloves on before getting the spray and stencil ready. "Yeah," Wanda replied. "Just a little cold."

You stopped and looked around the room. In the winter, you had a heater in here, but with it being late spring, that was long gone. But your eyes did find something else.

"I have this." You pointed to a corner with a large hand-knitted red blanket that your friend Darcy made one semester in college before you dropped out. "You could bunch up under you, or I can place it on your lower back once you're on the table."

Wanda loved how kind you were being and thought about your suggestion. "Would it get in your way?" You shook your head. "Not at all." Wanda believed you. "Okay. Thanks." She smiled and grabbed the blanket. You watched her wrap around her lower back. "I guess I shouldn't have worn a skirt today." Wanda gave a laugh that made your heart skip, and your mouth said words before you could stop it.

"I think you look beautiful."

Wanda's face turned red like your blanket, and the stencil went still in your hand.

"Oh shit!"

Wanda heard your thoughts and said something before you could. "Thank you..." She bit her bottom lip and turned around so you could place the stencil on her back.

A couple of seconds when you came back to Earth, you did.

"Okay." You took a step away. "See how it looks." Wanda turned her head to the right and found the mirror beside you.

It was perfect.

She knew the process was going to hurt, but in this moment, Wanda would do anything to feel closer to the ones she lost.

"I love it." She said after clearing her throat.

That's when you realized that this wasn't just a random flower. This meant something.

"Perfect." You smiled at her green eyes. "Here." You took your gloves off. "Get comfortable, and I'll adjust the blanket however you want." Wanda let you take it from her and noticed as you turned around to give her a little privacy as she laid onto the table.

She smiled at that. "Okay." She said, and from her 90-degree angle, she watched you turn around. She then felt the blanket cover her entire lower body. It was nice and warm. The act and the care behind it.

"Good?" You bent forward, making Wanda nod. "Awesome." You said. "Remember, if at any point you need to stop, let me know." Wanda nodded once again before parting her lips. "Should we come up with a safe word?"

Your glove snapped as it went around your hand when you stopped at her words. You weren't sure if Wanda was joking, but when you saw her pearly whites, you once again got to see her leaving her shell.

You smiled back.

"Wow, Wanda, take a girl to dinner first." You said back as you picked up the tattoo gun and tested it. Wanda laughed over the noise that scared her just slightly before saying: "Pancake."

You knew what she meant. Even if her accent made the word sound exotic. "Pancake." You repeat. She nodded, getting hair into her eyesight that she blew away. "Pancake, it is Wanda." You then rolled the stool closer to her. "I'm about to start. Don't be afraid to bunch your hands and scream or whatever. You'd be surprised what people do."

"I'll be sure to do all of those things." Wanda joked with a wide smile before she felt your arm rest on her back. The contact sent a wave of goosebumps over her body once again. "Are you still cold?" You asked with the needle inches from her.

"I'll be fine." Wanda lied. "Remember Pancake." You said, earning a thumbs up from the brunette.

Seconds later, Wanda was receiving her first tattoo.

Time passed as Wanda did her best not to let the tears in her eyes fall. She knew you were being careful and cautious. Gentle and light. But god, this hurt.

As you moved further down the flower, your eyes briefly looked at Wanda's, and you saw the water filling them. "You don't have to answer this if you don't want to..." You were going to talk to her to distract her from the droning buzz of the gun and the pain that came with it. "But." You continued. "I'm always curious about people's first tattoos." Wanda sniffled as her green eyes looked at you. "So why this one?"

Wanda let out a breath. She appreciated that you wanted to know more. "It's the national flower of Sokovia." She said, and you stopped shading as you looked down to her face. She was looking down at you. "Sokovia?" You asked, making her nod.

You knew of Sokovia.

You saw the news reports and watched the footage of buildings falling from the face of the earth. You knew about Ultron and the Avengers. And now how the once Eastern European country was slowly being washed from the world maps.

"You're Sokovian?" You asked. "I am," Wanda replied with her accent heavy. You gave a weak smile and paused before saying. "I'm sorry for what happened."

Wanda swallowed the tears in her throat.

You weren't the first person to apologize for the actions based upon others, but you were the first person who probably meant it.

"Thank you." She quietly replied before letting out a breath and some words of truth. "I was there."

You now leaned back in your stool. Maybe this was a good time for a break.

"When it was lifted into the air?" You asked, earning a nod. And as opposed to asking why she was there or how she survived like Wanda would've expected, you instead asked: "Do you have any favorite memories of Sokovia before you left?"

Wanda took in your words and thought about it.

She nodded.

"Sokovia was always on the brink of Civil War and had an uneasiness to it." Wanda paused and lifted up to drink some water. As she moved, she felt the pain and warmth from the fresh art on her body. Nevertheless, she knew the two of you had a while to go. "But.." Wanda smiled as she laid back onto her stomach. "There was this park close to our apartment. Every day after school, I'd run to the swings and try and launch myself as high as possible." Wanda laughed. "I wanted to fly."

You smiled, and for some reason, it was like you could see the stories clearly in your head.

It was beautiful.

"Nights I loved. After schoolwork and chores when it was just my brother Pitero and our parents watching old American sitcoms and having meals, my Mama grew up with..." Wanda trailed off as her voice became soft. "Those nights I'd give anything to have again."

Wanda didn't even feel the tear slip from her eyes.

But you saw it glimmer in the light, and within a second, your gloves were off as you handed Wanda a tissue.

Her fingertips brushed yours as she took it. "I'm sorry." She patted under her eye. "This is so embarrassing." Wanda balled up the tissue before you reached out for it. "No, it's not." You said as Wanda placed the tissue in the palm of your hand. "I think it's sweet." You smiled at Wanda before getting up to quickly wash your hands.

"I'd love to hear more about Sokovia as long as you want to keep talking about it." You said as you slipped on a new pair of black gloves.

Wanda shook her head yes.

And once the needle made contact with Wanda's skin again, did she tell you stories about the bake shop down the block from her school. Or how her brother was almost kicked off the school's track team. She also recounted her favorite episodes of Bewitched once you teasingly pressured her.

The conversation flowed naturally, and by the end, Wanda didn't feel the pain in her back. She only felt it in her cheeks because she was smiling so damn much.

"Okay." You put the gun down and wiped down Wanda's tattoo one last time. "You're free." You joked with a smile as you tossed your gloves away.

"Oh god, I don't think I've ever been so stiff." Wanda cracked her neck before she moved her legs off the table. She wobbled once her feet hit the ground, but thankfully, you were quick to stabilize her. "Here." You handed Wanda her water. "Don't need you passing out or anything before you see it."

Wanda gladly took a few sips before handing it back.

She then took a few steps forward before turning her exposed back to the mirror on the wall. As her green eyes made contact with the black art, she gasped and let out a ragged breath.

"I love it." She whispered before glancing over at you. Your eyes instantly connected to hers. "I love it." She repeated. Her eyes went back. "It's perfect." Up and down, her eyes went before she turned around to grab her phone.

A smaller iPhone than you were used to seeing.

"Could you take a picture?" She asked you, to which you nodded and smiled like a dummy as Wanda turned her back to you.

"Okay." You said after you perfectly framed her body. "I took about fifteen." You laughed before remembering the phone in your pocket. "Wanda?" You looked up at her. "Hmm?" She lifted her face from her phone. "Could I take a few pictures for my Instagram and website?"

"Of course."

Normally, she would've said no. She hated getting her picture taken. But normally, Wanda didn't get tattoos or become this close to someone like this.

Like you.

You were special.

"Thank you." You nodded to her as you put your phone down and grabbed some hand sanitizer. "Okay, let's get the wrap on, and then I can go over the aftercare."

Wanda's focus was back on you, and she hung on your every word.

"Y/N?" Wanda spoke up as your hand slimmed out the clear wrapping on her tattoo. "Wanda?" You said in the same tone, making Wanda teasingly roll her head away from you.

"I was thinking..." She started as you lifted your touch away from her soft skin. "Yes?" You asked as Wanda turned her face back to you.

She cleared her throat and sat up on the table.

"Could I have the pictures you took?" You easily nodded. "Sure, I can DM you on your Instagram or-"

"You could text them," Wanda said with confidence clear in her voice.

You stopped. "Or I could text them." You smiled as you stood up and grabbed a pamphlet of the aftercare process for Wanda to follow. "Here is everything you need to know." Wanda took it gently from your fingers. "What lotions to use. What soaps to not use... I could also text you this information. If you'd like."

You said as Wanda looked up and handed you back the pamphlet.

"You can text me."

You nodded. "Then I'll text you." Wanda shyly looked away from you as you both wore pink on your faces.

You looked around your space. "If you'd like to use the bathroom, it's just down the hall to the right. If not, I can meet you at the counter, and we can discuss cost. I'll only be a couple of minutes."

Wanda nodded and got up. She pulled the black curtain to your space back and was about to step out when she stopped herself and turned around to you. "Thank you. For everything. I'll probably thank you repeatedly, but I want you to know I mean it. They were with me before, but now their little flower has one for them. " She gave a watery smile, and before you could respond, Wanda walked away.

Wanda pulled out her phone, brushed her eyes, pulled her hoodie around, and stared at the tattoo pictures until you joined her at the front.

When you did, you held the red blanket Wanda had been using earlier. "Here." You said as you sat down next to Wanda on the waiting couch. "I'll text you it later, but one of the final steps of aftercare is to have a warm blanket nearby. So here."

Your kindness throughout the whole day meant more than you'd ever know.

Wanda swallowed and reached over, letting her hand run through the blanket before grabbing yours. Soft was her touch.

You let her fingers brush over your knuckles. "Is there a step about good company?" Wanda questioned as her voice became thicker with her accent. Her body leaning forward. "Yes." You nodded. "Company is supposed to take care of dinner." Your voice had become slow as you carefully weaved into this space with Wanda.

"Dinner?" Wanda husked. You simply smiled. "Text me when you're free?" You raised an eyebrow as Wanda looked up and scrunched her face.

She hadn't felt this way in a long time.

And neither had you. So when Wanda gripped your hand and gave you a very nervous but small peck on the lips, you let her.

And Wanda let you give her a discount even though she used the remaining cash she had as a tip.

Moments later. "Sent." Wanda received your text with a blushing emoji quickly, followed by a detailed step-by-step aftercare plan with a video in case Wanda needed it. "Thank you." She said before she texted back an emoji with a smile.

"I'll text you!" Wanda said in response to you as you closed the door to the shop behind her. Only then did you notice that your open sign had been flipped to close.

You didn't remember doing that.

But it didn't matter. You found yourself smiling and laughing all day. Learning about a country you were going to search traditional dishes from.

You met Wanda.

Wanda Maximoff.

You blushed when she texted you about a half hour later, letting you know that she had made it home safe. Wanda then sent a picture of her with the red blanket wrapped around her body.

You and Wanda texted every single day before and after your first date. You made Sokovian meals for her and took her around the city to let her experience anything she wanted. You held her close and kissed her as the two of you found yourselves under the same red blanket. You told her you loved her two months after she introduced you to her co-workers/housemates.

And now, as you wait for Wanda to text you after her mission in Lagos, are you working on a flash tattoo sheet of a scarlet witch.

Your girlfriend.

Wanda Maximoff. Your Sokovian Flower.

dividers by @/benkeibear

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badgerhuan · 3 months

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two weeks ago i made this post after i finished playing gs1 and then got informed that one of my favorite scenes in Yomigaeru Gyakuten (Rise from the Ashes) had been altered. i'm sorry that i didn't respond to anyone on that post, but now i'm here to present the full scene, with screenshots.

this scene is triggered when you go to Mitsurugi's office for the first time, and you choose to inspect the bookcase. (i fucked up my timing for the first screenshot rip. sorry Akane-chan)

Akane: Uwa...are all of these case files!? Akane: They're slotted tightly all the way to the ceiling! There's even a ladder here. Naruhodou: ...that's weird. Since that guy is supposed to have a fear of earthquakes... Naruhodou: I really can't imagine him using such a dangerous bookcase like this one. Akane: It's no problem! Akane: There are really gigantic bolts fixing it firmly to the wall! Akane: What great power. I wonder if Mitsurugi-kenji-san did that? The screen flashes to Itonokogiri's laughing sprite for an instant. Naruhodou: (...for some reason. Itonoko-keiji's face came to mind...)

when i got to this scene playing the game, it meant everything to me. on top of checking up on Mitsurugi after earthquakes, Itonokogiri also took measures into his own hands to make sure his office would be a safe place for him in case of earthquakes...it made their relationship even more compelling to me.

it's also very important to me that it's Naruhodou picking up on this. playing through the game i always got the vibe that he noticed how close Mitsurugi and Itonokogiri are. this is just one more piece of evidence for that.

it had been made known to me, that in the English localization, they, for some reason, decided to erase Mitsurugi's known fear of earthquakes (which Naruhodou only knows bc he learned it from Itonokogiri!) and swap it for a...fear of heights? that has never existed in the original version of the games? and also the only time it was brought up in the English version at all??

i really don't understand why they did that. what was wrong with the original?? why invent a new fear out of thin air instead of using what's established?? what was the goal here???

there are numerous slight changes that the English localization has made that, when compiled together, really alters the vibe of the characters and how they interact with each other. but this is by far the most egregious change they've made that i've encountered (i've only played from gs1 and gs2, and i wasn't really paying attention to possible changes when playing through gs1).

maybe one day i'll make another post about the small changes they made (that are almost all at the expense of Itonokogiri...), but for now, here is the change that left me the most baffled.

#ace attorney #gumworth #dick gumshoe #miles edgeworth #gyakuten saiban #mitsunoko #mitsurugi reiji #itonokogiri keisuke #naruhodou ryuuichi #houzuki akane #roch speaks #roch metas #they really changed it from something only Itonokogiri knew and did to help Mitsurugi to something only Phoenix knew about Edgeworth...#why is the localization so mean to itonokogiri...............

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under-lore · 7 months

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About "Tweets aren't canon"

One misconception that one seems to be nearly guaranteed to see brought up by someone whenever discussing Undertale/Deltarune lore with people who are not particularly invested in it is that "Toby Fox said tweets weren't canon".

And, when you first hear it, it actually sounds quite convincing, because this tweet is in fact real and does seem to say that.

So... What's actually going on here with tweets and with this one in particular ?

The actual status of tweets

Before mentioning what's really going on with that specific tweet, i'd like to lay some groundwork first.

For instance, regarding the fact that this tweet dates back from November 2016. And that if the tweet were to be taken seriously, it would mean that no tweets especially after that date are to be treated as canon.

Something that is rather explicitely not the case.

There are several examples for this, although the Gaster tweets which introduced us to Deltarune and directly link up to the game's "Goner Maker" introduction sequence are i would say prime offenders.

Here in these tweets, we are not yet connected, then we are given a way to connect.

Then, we pick this back up where we left it in Deltarune, where we are then asked wether the connection was a success.

This has of course been pointed out to Toby (although he never responded to those messages), and yet it did not prevent him from re-doing the exact same thing a few years later for chapter 2.

In short, the situation is that, to this day, Toby Fox still purposely uses tweets in order to provide important canon-accurate information about his games, with the Spamton Q&A as recently as last year.

In light of that, using that one tweet to say that any information coming from tweets is invalid just can't be right... So one might wonder :

But then, why did Toby say that ?

The problem comes from the fact that this quote is usually cropped like this when people try to share it around :

Which is greatly misleading !

Obviously, Toby Fox's popularity comes mainly from Undertale and later Deltarune. Due to this, and due to the majority of the fandom nowadays being teenagers, many in the fandom are not aware that ever since his own teenage years, Toby Fox has been for the lack of a better term, a massive shitposter. A habit that only started to die out after Undertale's release and in the year that followed. (Though he still shows glimpses of it from time to time)

I mean, we are talking about the person who kept on posting memes on twitter for nearly a decade and who made "a goast poot on u" at the end of the Earthbound Halloween Hack, his first semi-serious game project.

Why ?

Because he's just that kind of "funny guy" and felt like it. His words, not mine.

This was, up until not so long ago, the kind of person that Toby was online.

When taking all this into account and looking back at the un-cropped version of that quote, it becomes pretty obvious what's going on here.

Toby Fox found a bootleg nursery rhyme video of Undertale characters, found that hilarious (As the "funny guy" that he is), and decided to make a shitpost about it. Joking about how this weird thing that he found, right here, was the peak of official Undertale material and might just be more canon in his book than the kickstarter or tweets were.

The post that started this whole thing in the first place was just that, a shitpost, a joke, not something that Toby ever actually meant. Which honestly should have been pretty obvious in the first place, i mean, this is still a post about Toby trolling bootleg nursery rhymes, people. It wasn't meant to be taken seriously...

Besides, that tweet's statement would have been self-contradictory anyways. If tweets weren't canon, then this tweet would not be canon either, etc... Leading to one of those silly paradoxical loops rather than to an actual statement about tweet canonicity.

So then, that brings the question : Why ?

Why do so many people still claim that tweets aren't canon ?

The reason is likely the same as the reason why this misconception was created in the first place : It is a rope to cling on to for some people to defend certain headcanons that Toby had debunked via tweets.

Because yes, between late 2015 and late 2016 Toby used to once in a while answer a question about the lore of the game on tweeter. Leaving some people with their headcanons turning out to be wrong.

(A few examples of headcanons that Toby denied on twitter were that Undyne killed the green soul human, or that ghost monsters used to be humans, for example.)

It was some of those people, in the first place, who started cropping this tweet to make it seem like their headcanons were still on the table and started the mess in the first place.

This rumor, at its origins, was not just a mere misconception but rather a deliberate attempt at misinformation from some fans that weren't happy with the way Toby had taken the game, which is unfortunately still being shared around to this day due to how sensible it seems at first sight.

#toby fox #undertale #deltarune #twitter #undertale theory #deltarune theory

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valya-dudycz-lupescu · 1 year

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Musings on Ice-Pick Joe

I'm not sure why no one is talking about Ice-Pick Joe's death scene, especially with rumors of the Ice-Pick Joe prequel circulating the internet.

The scene where Ice-Pick Joe walked by Sofia's window on his way to the fateful meeting with Katya, stopping to lean against the light post long enough to see two silhouettes come together. (I can't be the only one who was getting Blue Velvet vibes in that scene?) Why isn't anyone talking about his longing? The voyeurism? His fear of abandonment stemming from childhood trauma...after all, his mother picked him, of all his siblings, to leave at the orphanage! She left him with nothing but those appleseeds that he carried around in his pockets.

I'm absolutely sure that Sofia was the unnamed child in Joe's flashback (Jodie Foster was so good as the scrappy, androgynous best friend. She did have a limp in that scene when they were running from the cemetery. We don't actually know at what age Sofia lost her leg. And Donny Osmond was the perfect young Ice-Pick Joe!)

If you watch closely, she had the same birthmark on her shoulder in that first awkward kiss scene that Sofia had when she and Katya fought that night of her birthday, when she ripped her blouse and threw her glass of champagne at the wall.)

But back to Joe on the empty street, those shadows against the wall like shadow puppets, and the way the clock motif came back at that moment? Such haunting music, reprised again in the film score during Joe's death (I still cry when I hear "The Demise of Ice-Pick Joe". Linking to it here, because I played it on repeat when the movie was over. Brilliant and haunting.)

youtube

Remember how the flashbacks showed us that Ice-Pick Joe was really superstitious and believed that he had inherited his grandmother's gifts? If you watch the way Joe looks at the shadows and then down at his watch, you can see him hesitate before going to the docks. Was he hearing voices?

Most people agree that the shadows on the wall looked like a child, but I'm not sure that Ice-Pick Joe's hesitation to go to the dock was about his own son. I think the shadows looked more like that kiss flashback when he and Sofia were children. The frame and perspective are almost the same angle, as if they are being watched from below.

Either way, he is clearly making the choice to leave the past behind that brings him to his tragic and senseless death.

I would love to know what happened that took that gentle young Joe who loved to sing and turned him into the tortured stoic we meet in Goncharov, the only affection reserved for his cat, Mrs. Claws.

(I can't help but wonder if they meant for her to be an echo of Le Befana, the Italian winter witch-goddess who sometimes gets translated as Mrs. Claus? After all, his mama's last words to him when she kissed him goodbye were, "If you're a very good boy, maybe La Befana will bring you to a new home on Epiphany morning, a warm home full of food and presents." Poor Joe never finds that home.) You know, I think that was the first time I heard about Le Befana, and that was one of the inspirations that led me down the road to my own version of Mother Christmas.

Does anyone know if it's true that the Ice-Pick Joe prequel got permission to use "Hotel California" as its theme song? I wonder if we're going to get the story of his time as an unskilled laborer in the vineyards of Napa in the 60s? I was never clear about how he got to America and then back to Italy with a small fortune and hitman skills? They're saying it's like Better Call Saul meets the Sopranos meets Twin Peaks. I'm here for it, especially if they can get Cole Sprouse to play young Ice-Pick Joe.

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shinelikethunder · 2 years

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seriously though, it's incredible how much of my "maybe titties again?" goodwill tumblr torched in 30 seconds through obnoxious UX alone:

i am browsing around in the android app. i see a post about disabling some new content filter. this is the first I've heard of it, even though my version of the app does turn out to have it - they put it in place before adding any mechanism to let me know it's there. strike one.

i go to settings > dashboard, the place where all the settings about what you do and don't see are supposed to live. no sign of it.

i go back to the settings menu. squint at it. see an unremarkable entry near the bottom called "Content you see" that isn't highlighted or marked as new in any way (even though i can't even visit anyone's blog anymore without having to actively tap past an FYI tooltip that can't be turned off, every single time, shilling weeks-old gift features that I've already used)

...oh, that's where my custom tag and keyword filters went. no prior indication they'd even been moved!

i have a lot of filters set up. like. a LOT. i now have to scroll past every single one of them, tag AND keyword, uncollapsed and unabridged, just to see whether there's another setting hiding underneath. on mobile! even the desktop site is more polite than this, jesus

just to recap so far: the only reason i even know to look is that i saw a random post about new content settings, and i would never have bothered with all that scrolling if i weren't crusty and paranoid about sites that hide vital settings in the depths of Menu Hell. i mean, that'd be crazy, right? surely listing all those filters with no collapse is a signal there's nothing worthwhile underneath them.

oh no wait, there they are!

it's not just one toggle, it's FOUR new settings!

all of them are set to "hide everything and never even let me know it was there"

even though there is a "blur" option that would've let me know that stuff was being hidden from me without actually showing it

even though i have, in the past, gone into every iteration of the adult content settings that tumblr has ever rolled out and affirmatively ordered it to show me the titties

THEY ARE NOT TOGGLES. EACH ONE OPENS A SEPARATE MENU SCREEN. every single one of the FOUR new settings needs like 3+ taps in the android app just to put it back to normal.

does turning on the catchall "mature content" setting cause the three more specific ones to default to "show" and let me pick restrictions as needed like a goddamn adult? NOPE, i have to go into the stupid little menu for every single one

it's almost like you didn't want me to find them and, having found them, wanted to make me pay as high an annoyance tax as possible to opt out of being nannied

the dashboard banner that eventually shows up, btw, says nothing about having been voluntold for additional filtering, and also just dumps you out in the general settings menu and leaves you to fend for yourself, with no indication of where this shit is hidden or what "this shit" even is. and that's downright friendly next to the link in the announcement post that's apparently been kicking people out of the app and onto web.

this is not how you get a rightfully mistrustful userbase to be optimistic about putting scarlet letters on their own posts. this is not how you convince anyone that it's just a courtesy, not a scarlet letter, or that it won't be used to punish and stigmatize you the instant the wind shifts direction.

in the most practical here-and-now terms, this is also not how you get people to USE the new content warnings on their posts! artists, especially, are hardly gonna jump to flag anything as mature if it means every single one of their followers - regardless of age, previous adult content settings, or whether they're in Apple's walled garden or not - has just been silently opted out of ever knowing it was there. (this goes double if it requires more than one sentence to explain how to reverse it. which this new setting seems almost deliberately designed to do.)

look, i want the titties back, okay? i would be delighted if this turned out to be the first step towards bringing them back. i know Tumblr is under duress from Apple that affects how they can do whatever they're doing here. but the way it's being rolled out sucks needless ass, and if they wanted my hope and trust, well, those are easier to muster up when I'm not going in grouchy about the frustrating UX of an app that's just taken hostile action against my prior explicitly-affirmed preferences.

#hellsite (derogatory)

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janmisali · 1 year

Text

Number Tournament: Honorable Mentions

well, you've all asked for it, and I guess there's no point in waiting any further now that round one is almost over. here's some highlights from the numbers that didn't get enough nominations to make it into the tournament. (as you can work out from looking at how many nominations the numbers that made it into the tournament got, my cutoff was seven nominations, which left room for me to hand-pick three numbers that only got six to fill in the bottom seeds)

six nominations

these are the numbers that were the closest of all to making the cut. in the end, I picked ten, Rayo's number, and omega to fill in seeds 62-64, but four other numbers got six nominations but didn't make it:

25: perfectly fine square number. notably funnier than 24

81: another square. I only wanted one "boring normal integer" for the bottom seeds and like come on it had to be ten.

5040: Plato's favorite number, a very fun one

42069: both 420 and 69 already made the cut, so this would have been excessive

and now for some miscellaneous fun ideas that not enough people suggested to make the cut!

cool math things

c (the speed of light) could have been a strong contender, but physics fans were pretty much universally putting their efforts behind the fine-structure constant and the Avogadro constant, leaving other universal constants behind

the Euler-Masceroni constant got five nominations super early on in the process, some of which were even intentional (there are so many things named after Euler but I made the call that people who said "Euler's constant" without specifying were talking about this one) but never got any further than that

a lot of infinite ordinals more interesting than the standard omega were in the running, but given that omega itself only barely made it in, numbers like omega to the omega power never stood a chance. of course, given how well omega did in round one maybe those other bigger infinities could have held their own if only more people suggested them before the tournament began

Not a Number's presence in the tournament is I think very fun, but other floating point things were also nominated, just not as frequently. negative zero was a fun one, as are the handful of nominations for just slightly-off multiples of one tenth

besides star, a lot of game theory not-really-number numbers had a few fans supporting them, such as dud (deathless universal draw), a couple of tiny numbers, and one suggestion for {69|420}

meme numbers

fans of boobs were split between 80085, 58008, 8008135, and 5318008, so none of the boob numbers made it individually

perhaps even more disappointingly, only five people suggested 1312

1337 is a super dead meme so that one being unpopular isn't as surprising. but then literally nobody suggested 9001? weird!

the AACS encryption key (an illegal number) only got a handful of suggestions, which is a shame because that's a really fun one

only three people suggested "your credit card number" but if it made it past the cutoff I 100% would have put that in the tournament

meta jokes

a few people suggested variations of "the number that wins the tournament", which I think is a funnier meta joke than either of the ones that actually made the cut

a couple people also did versions of "the sum of all other numbers in the bracket" (or "all other numbers people suggested in this google form"), with a couple people who said that also thankfully adding in some conditions to only include numbers where you can actually do that

a couple people have asked me what the smallest natural number was that nobody suggested, and unfortunately (by which I mean I love this) I can't answer that because a couple people suggested "the smallest natural number nobody else suggests"

another fun one was "the number of notes on this tumblr post", which only one person suggested

three separate people did "five (the word five not the number)", "5 (the symbol not the number it represents)" and "V (the roman numeral)" (looking at them all together it kinda looks like this was the same person all three times but that's because I'm paraphrasing all of them)

googologisms and otherwise big numbers

shockingly, the famously large numbers googol and Graham's number didn't get nearly as much support as the googologisms that made it to the bracket

five people suggested numbers in the Busy Beaver sequence, but none of them suggested the same Busy Beaver number

there were also things like "the smallest counterexample to the Collatz conjecture", fully hypothetical numbers

"zillion", "bajillion", and "fuckton" got two nominations each, any of which would have been extremely fun to see in the tournament

other

a couple people just said "fibonacci number" which. do you mean like the whole sequence? maybe these should have counted for phi

two people suggested "a grizzly bear". I'm assuming that's a reference I'm not getting, because it's way too specific of a joke for two people to say that independently

there was one suggestion that was the coordinates to a restaurant in yemen called burger king 2

anyway there's literally thousands of these, and I have no intentions of at any point making a full comprehensive list of what people suggested, but I think this is a pretty good sample of what the nominees were like. there were a lot of really good candidates, but I think the 64 that made it into the tournament are a pretty dang good set of numbers!

thank you to everyone who suggested your favorite numbers, it was genuinely very fun reading through everyone's suggestions.

#number tournament #jan misali #math #mathblr

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thedrarrylibrarian · 8 months

Note

hi!! I first off wanted to say THANK YOUU!! I came across your page abt two months ago when I needed new fics and I use your recs so often!! I was wondering, what are a few of your all-time favorite fics, if you had to choose? (:

Oh my goodness! I'm so glad to hear that you've been enjoying my blog! I can't believe I've been running this blog for 3 years today!

What a fun ask (I've been sitting on this so I could use it for today!) I really struggled to pick fics - or more accurately, not to pick ALL the fics! I picked fics that are my go to rereads - whether it's because they make me laugh or because they pull at my heartstrings, or because they're so hot, these are some of my personal favorites.

Cupboard Love by @shealwaysreads (4,184 words, rated G)

Cupboard Love: the psychoanalytic theory of an infant’s primary drive being food which, when satisfied, leads naturally to a secondary drive for attachment.

Harry’s life, and love, in food.

Still Warm, Still Warm by @tsauergrass (4,899 words, rated G)

Harry is up to something. Why else would he keep giving Draco presents?

Five Little Things by @bixgirl1 (6,197 words, rated T)

Harry was supposed to be good at this.

Headway by orphan_account (7,482 words, rated M)

“It’s called courting,” Draco spat suddenly, livid and red in the face. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand a single thing about it, actually Potter, since it’s formal, and there are rules, and neither of those are concepts you’d know anything about even if they took on human form and kicked you right in the fucking dick.”

The Exhale by spqr (7,506 words, rated T)

Hermione makes a soft, concerned sound. "Harry, look at this." She shows him an article with a photo, but the photo's not moving; it must be a Muggle newspaper. "NASA have just landed a rover on Mars. It's called Curiosity, and look, this is so--I don't know if it's sweet or sad, but--it's all alone out there, and they programmed it to sing itself Happy Birthday."

Nothing is wrong, but Harry starts crying.

Silverpoint by @tackytigerfic (8,836 words, rated E)

It seems fairly simple to you, but you know that you don't really understand love - how could you, after all? You've never known how to talk about it, but you've never had to before. Everyone you ended up loving has always understood. You've been able to show them, by fighting for them, dying for them.

That seems a bit much- after all, Malfoy just wants tea in bed and his cock in your mouth (not usually at the same time).

It's ok to love him, you reason with yourself - he doesn't have to know. No one ever has to know.

Quick as a Flash of Lightning, Unhurried as Eternity by @onbeinganangel and @babooshkart (10,000 words, rated E)

Can you fall in love with someone by simply watching them fiercely love another version of yourself?

The Way These Days Seem to Go (And Go) by @firethesound (15,230 words, rated T)

Stress baking isn’t a hobby Harry ever thought he’d pick up, but he’s surprised to find how much it helps him to get through those long months post-war. It keeps his hands busy, it keeps his mind occupied, and when Draco Malfoy steadily pushes his way back into Harry's life, it helps with that too.

Let him lead me to the banquet by @harryromper (16,066 words, rated T)

The worst part is Harry’s got no idea why Malfoy keeps sending him invites. He’s never replied to a single one. And if the whole dinner is as exclusive and sought-after as the Prophet keeps breathlessly reporting, then presumably the only reason Malfoy wants him there is in his capacity as the Chosen One. So, really, he can fuck right off. Harry doesn’t care about Draco Malfoy’s redemption tour. And he’s certainly not going to help him with it.

Draco Malfoy Absolutely Does Not Need to Be Loved by Harry Bloody Potter by @nv-md (18,153 words, rated E)

It’s not easy to be bonded to your childhood rival, turned fuckbuddy, who you also have extremely uncomfortable but repressed feelings for—just ask Draco Malfoy.

When You Kiss Me (What A Lovely Way to Burn) by @femmequixotic (22,167 words, rated E)

A drag fairytale of New York in which Draco wears red lipstick and Potter can’t get enough.

In the dark, the light by phrynne (32,203 words, rated E)

‘Potter… It’s Malfoy. Do you still want this?’ It started like that. Malfoy’s breath on his ear, his voice low, hot against his skin. Harry shivered, though he could feel the heat from Malfoy’s body just behind him, too close, but not touching him. Even if he could. For the rest of the night, he could do whatever the hell he wanted with Harry.

Clouds That Veil the Midnight Moon by @drarrytrash (36,733 words, rated E)

According to Harry’s personal narrative regarding the incident, he’d hooked up with Draco Malfoy for purely self-destructive reasons, or out of convenience, or by some unlucky accident. Looking at him, sprawled in the moonlight, Harry is devastated to recall that he’d hooked up with Draco Malfoy because he’s hot.

Draco is a secret werewolf and Harry is doing his best and they've got criminals to catch, darn it.

Boiling Point by @goldentruth813 (42,882 words, rated M)

After an Auror raid gone wrong, Draco ends up trapped in a dodgy safehouse with nothing but Harry Potter’s dubious company and a dwindling supply of food. With only each other and the walls surrounding them, they're forced to confront their past and their feelings which have long been threatening to boil over.

The Liars Department by @dorthyanndrarry (103,395 words, rated T)

This is a story about Harry meeting up with Draco Malfoy four years after the war. And a story about Harry, well, not hating his job per say, but it's not like he has much to compare it to and it seemed fine. His whole life seemed fine. Then Malfoy came along with and his flashy suits and fast car making everything seem dull in comparison, and Harry... Harry couldn't just leave well enough alone.

Grounds for Divorce by @tepre (122,217 words, rated E)

Malfoy finds a coin. Harry finds a letter.

A story about histories, a story about families. A story about a lemon tree somewhere in Upper Egypt.

What We Pretend We Can't See by @gyzym (131,086 words, rated M)

Seven years out from the war, Harry learns the hard truth of old history: it’s never quite as far behind you as you thought.

❤️ As always, if you find a fic you enjoy, please remember to leave the author a kudos or a comment! ❤️

Love forever,

The Drarry Librarian

#my favorites #my favorite fics #the drarry librarian's favorite fics #drarry #harry potter #draco malfoy #harry x draco #the drarry librarian #happy blog anniversary to me! 3 years!#blog anniversary

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 5 months

Note

Hey Raven! Hope you're doing well, and I hope you had a great holiday, if you celebrate, that is.

I hate to clutter your ask box with something like this, and you don’t have to answer, you can just read this with an open mind, but I feel you're the only one I could go to with this without being straight-up attacked. It's also why I'm asking anonymously.

But, what's your stance on the whole war between the JP and EN versions of the game? I'm not asking you to pick a side or anything, I just wanna know your thoughts.

Obviously, I'm an EN player, and idk if you seen, but there's some hateful things out there about us, and honestly, it's hurtful and disheartening to every time I get up here. And it's always on this we as players can't control. Mainly the dialog translations and it's changes.

I've seen people calling us dumb and weak, saying we water down everything because we can't take it, etc. I've seen people saying we don't know how to really correctly and analyze characters and that we're not even playing the same game. They say we've ruined the game, the fandom, and that they wished it was never localized. I've also seen quite horrible things, but I don’t wanna repeat the things said, but yeah.

And the kicker is, it's only the JP side I've seen post this stuff. I've seen more hate come from that side more than anything, and of course not all, like you. You're my fave btw.

So yeah, thoughts?

Hello, hello! ^^ I’m not really a super big celebration person but I’m hunkering down for a cozy hibernation this winter ❄️ I hope everyone had/will have a good 2023 holiday season~

Before I provide my response to the question posed in this ask, I want to make sure we're all on the same page for this discussion first:

Please be advised that my perspective is coming from that of someone who started off playing JP in March 2020 and then picked up EN when it came out in January 2022. I have played on both servers since their initial launches.

When I refer to TWST JP and EN fans in this post, I am only referring to the English speaking fans (as in, English speaking fans who play JP and English speaking fans who play EN).

For the sake of simplicity, I will be disregarding “hybrid” fans (English speaking fans who play both JP and EN) as a separate category and will lump them in with “JP” fans (English speaking fans who play JP). This is because I assume most mixed fans started off with JP and then adopted EN later on.

I am not talking about ALL English-speaking JP and/or EN fans here; I am only talking about the ones Anon described in their ask.

As the Anon said, I ask that you go into this post with an open mind; do not assume that I will bash JP and/or EN, take sides, defend or condone toxic attitudes, or that this post exists just to “stir the pot”. That is not the purpose of my response. The purpose is to have a meaningful and constructive discussion about TWST’s fandom culture, particularly as it pertains to English-speaking fans. I hope that in talking about this, we can better understand “the other side” (however you may personally define that) and work toward making the fandom space more welcoming for all.

Please read the entire post and think about your own choice of words before commenting and/or sending in an ask about this topic, should you choose to.

To the Anon that submitted this ask and to anyone else that plays EN and may have had similar thoughts: I’m sorry to hear about the negative experiences you’ve had in the TWST fandom. I hope that this post brings you some peace of mind, if not at least some catharsis for what you may be feeling.

Firstly, it’s important to understand the mindset of both JP and EN fans. As such, I will delve into the background and the development of each side. It is NOT meant to justify either side, but rather to inform you on how each perspective originated and grew to what it is today.

The animosity and opposition to an official English version of TWST has been present for a while. An English version of TWST has always been contentious, even long before the localization was announced. Some wanted it to happen for accessibility reasons (as some people find it tedious to hunt for translations) or were supportive of the idea because it means a larger fanbase and thus more potential to make friends or to discuss the game. Others were more apprehensive of the quality of a localization (as much tends to be cut or censored to make the content more palatable) and/or claimed that expanding the fanbase in such a way would bring in more “bad apples”.

When EN first came out, it did, in fact, expand the fanbase. However, many were quick to notice the many (and I do mean many) errors and short sightings present in it: frequent spelling and grammar mistakes in the game and on official social media posts, inconsistent phrasing, incorrect translations, game-breaking glitches, frequent censorship, half-hearted promotions, etc. EN also became infamous for its absolutely brutal pacing of content in the early days, particularly related to the limited story event schedules (including back-to-back Halloween events). This, in combination with EN’s constant pushing of paid gems (which occurs far more frequently than in the JP server) has left a bad taste in JP fans’ mouths. To them, TWST EN did not make a good first impression and continued to misstep again and again. This is especially true of the many dialogue changes to make the TWST localization more “culturally appropriate” (which is the definition of what a localization is; there is a reason why TWST is not called a translation, which would be a more accurate/“faithful” or direct translation of the dialogue).

The claim that “EN fans are weak/can’t handle the real story” likely arises from how EN has removed or altered details which may offend western audiences. This includes things like the term “master”, the mention of Azul’s weight, Kalim’s “30-40” siblings, etc. These are conscious decisions made on the part of the game localizers to make TWST more broadly appealing and appropriate for a western audience, where such topics are contentious or considered taboo. This is adapting TWST to a new culture so that it can (in a dry business sense) perform well. However, I also want to mention that some cultural changes EN made do significantly alter the story/characters (such as Jamil no longer stating his family will be on the streets if they defy the Asims; in EN he only says his parents will be bad at him), particularly if you are viewing through an EN-only lens. Unfortunately 😔 as much as I can point the nuances of localization out, there will always be fans who still oppose any sort of censorship. This is also true of the anime and manga community in general, and this post isn’t large enough in scope to tackle those issues. I only mention this here to help you, the reader, better understand the changes from Disney/Aniplex.

A lot of the original negative feelings that were there before EN was announced were then confirmed by the official release, and this strengthened the dislike of EN on the part of JP fans. These JP fans may then become hostile toward EN fans who defend the localization (whether or not they have the context of TWST JP) because, in the eyes of the JP fans, the localization is not as good as it could be. Ultimately, it seems like their intense feelings stem from passion for what they love and not wishing to see it “desecrated” rather than an actual hatred of fellow fans. JP fans are upset because they fear EN fans are not getting the full scope of the characters and a story they enjoy, and they want others to appreciate those aspects of TWST as well.

Of course 💦 the fact is that EN fans are not responsible for the localization. But EN is there and that is what is the easiest and the most time efficient for English-speaking audiences, so most people will go with that rather than alternatives (ie hunting down fan translations). The issue is that some JP fans conflate simply consuming the localization as being bad or the “wrong” thing to do, and thus, by proxy, extend this frustration to EN fans themselves (especially those those are EN only and have zero prior knowledge of JP) and not just the product. Again, this is because they tend to see JP as the “full” version, without the changes or censorship present in EN. This inevitably leads to discrepancies in understanding between JP and EN, whether due to staggered release of new content or how the characters are presented differently between the two servers. To those who say “the versions are basically the same except for minor changes”, I disagree. There are several dialogue changes that appear small in isolation, but because TWST’s narrative is told primarily via dialogue, those “small” changes are actually very large and can drastically modify how one perceives a character or situation without explicit knowledge of JP to balance it out. When Jamil is made an “employee” rather than a “servant” and worries about his parents being mad at him instead of his entire family literally being on the streets for defying the Asims, it takes away the bite from his motivations. When Cater inserts a #WOW that wasn’t there in JP while Riddle is breaking down sobbing, or makes him come off as far more insensitive than emotionally aware. These are just a few examples, but they are very prominent ones that can change how an EN only fan sees things. The idea that “we aren’t even playing the same game” can ring true to some JP players because of this.

It cannot be helped that EN fans would interpret the characters and stories differently when the localization is their only or primary source of TWST content. Not everyone has the time or the desire to look for more accurate fan translations (not all fan translations are the same quality), as some JP fans have suggested. If EN fans want to, that’s great! It’s nice to expand one’s knowledge and to be cognizant of the changes between the versions. There are many blogs out there dedicated to educating people on these matters, and many EN and JP fans alike flocking there to be informed. But that level of engagement shouldn’t be demanded of anyone. To deem those that don’t engage in “further research” as “lazy”, “dumb”, or a “fake fan” is not acceptable, not in the name of love or otherwise. The expectation to “do homework” only puts pressure on EN fans to be a certain way or else be rejected by the fandom, and that only breeds more hatred and negativity. It makes EN fans feel “not worthy” of being a fan unless they study up, when the truth of the matter is that no matter how much we like TWST, it’s… media at the end of the day. People are free to consume their choice of media however they like, and that includes casually or at their own pace. It’s not fun to be in a fandom where others are breathing down your neck and policing everything you do, especially since these spaces are meant to be a temporary escape from reality. If JP fans meant to gatekeep in an effort to make others recognize the “real” greatness of TWST, then it’s failing because this kind of attitude only serves to drive new fans away.

Among EN fans, there is this idea that “JP fans are stuck-up”. I can understand where this thinking comes from, as I have witnessed hatred for EN myself which comes unprompted and has killed many conversations. Admittedly, some points are geared toward the company themselves (and those are valid), such as rushed and/or inaccurate translations or the pushing of paid gems, but I’ve also seen my fair share of nastier, invalid comments directed at EN fans. There are JP fans who actively hope that EN will shut down or who outright dismiss EN fans because of the version they play, thinking of their thoughts and opinions as “lesser” or doubting their media literacy skills. It’s true that this behavior is out there in the fandom, and that is unfortunately a sad reality.

That being said, JP on EN hate is not the only form I see, and nor is it the majority. It goes both ways (and I would say about equally for all, although this is just based on anecdotes and not objective data). There is plenty of JP on JP hate (particularly when someone spreads mistranslations around as though it were the truth) and EN on EN hate (arguments over what is and is not appropriate to ship, differences in headcanons, harassing fans that fall outside an “acceptable” age range, etc). There is also EN on JP hate which feeds into a dangerous back-and-forth with JP on EN hate. I briefly mentioned before that EN fans tend to believe JP fans are elitist, and this leads to assumptions being made about anyone that critiques EN and sometimes lashing out about it. I myself have previously been accused of “hating” EN because I often make posts commenting on the changes made between EN and JP (which ones I think work and which I think don’t). This preemptively defensive behavior drives another wedge between JP and EN fans, making JP fans reluctant to engage with EN fans, which then fuels the belief that JP fans think they’re “better” than EN fans (when really, some JP fans may be intentionally distancing themselves for their own wellbeing). Additionally, a lot of behavior deemed more acceptable in western oriented fandom spaces (such as moral justifications, taking pictures without crediting, callouts of other fans, and incorrect use of fandom tags) are not so for JP spaces (or those familiar with JP spaces). There have also been times when EN fans harass the actual Japanese-speaking side of the fandom (be it Japanese fans or the devs themselves) and demand (not ask, but demand) content that caters to them or free translations of fan comics they make. When EN fans fail to observe such “basic fandom etiquette”, it leads to JP fans thinking them rude or entitled, which makes JP fans reluctant to interact with EN fans and, again, feeds into confirmation bias. It’s a viscous system.

What is “ruining” the fandom is not just one side. There has always been turmoil present in fandom spaces. It just appears more visible now that TWST’s popularity has grown to this degree. Right now, both sides (JP and EN) are antagonizing each other because of a loud minority that’s attacking the other side. That minority then gets extrapolated and assumed to be behavior of the entirety of the other side, and that is what keeps the hate going.

If I’m being entirely honest 😔 I don’t think these tensions will realistically ever die out; the fandom is too large to “stomp out” what has already been established in its culture. When both sides are fueled by something so strong—a passion for TWST—it’s hard to seek out and/or to consider alternative perspectives. We become fixated on their own negative experiences and fail to think about where the “others” maybe be coming from, and then close ourselves off from discussion. That promotes isolation and contempt rather than friendliness and cooperation.

If we want change, then it starts at an individual level and in smaller TWST communities. We shouldn’t assume the worst of “JP” or “EN” fans; we are all TWST fans. Let’s keep open-minded and welcome other fans and their diverse schools of thought. And if you don’t feel comfortable with that, that’s also fine! You’re allow to keep a distance and curate your online space as you like; just please don’t go out of your way to disparage others, you have your own lane and others have theirs. Don’t encroach on other lanes.

Maybe we don’t necessarily agree with each other or we think may hold different opinions—but that’s good, isn’t it? The freedom of thought and the open exchange of ideas promotes flexible thinking and can lead you to see things from a new angle, or perhaps develop a new idea of your own. If we all thought the same way, then life becomes boring or it can cultivate an “us versus them” narrative that sparks online wars.

Let me put it this way to close off the post: isn’t this the message that Twisted Wonderland itself is trying to teach us? The true value of attending Night Raven College isn’t just about receiving a good education. Countless times it has been stressed to us (and often by Lilia, the oldest and wisest of the core cast, someone who used to be resistant to opening up to outsiders) that it is vital to understand other people in spite of how different we may be. Let’s take a page out of the students’ book and try to live up to that ^^

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst en #twisted wonderland en #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #notes from the writing raven #question #advice #Azul Ashengrotto #Riddle Rosehearts #Cater Diamond #Scarabia #Kalim Al-Asim #Jamil Viper #Lilia Vanrouge

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vashtijoy · 1 year

Text

"let's make a deal", with and without Akechi's confidant

So the final showdown in the engine room differs in P5R, based on whether or not you max out Akechi's confidant. Let's take a look.

At this point, Akechi has raised the bulkhead door and is trapped on the wrong side of it, seriously wounded, with a furious Cognitive Akechi and a small mountain of shadows. Things do not look good for our deuteragonist:

Akechi: The real fools... are you guys. You should have just abandoned me here a long time ago. Akechi: You would have all perished... if you had tried to face these with me weighing you down.

[Phantom Thieves all go !]

Makoto [stepping forward]: Akechi-kun! Akechi: Let's make a deal, okay? You won't say no, will you? Yusuke [stepping forward]: Why, at a time like this!? Akechi: Change Shido's heart... in my stead... End his crimes... Akechi: Please!

Now here's our first divergence. You are offered different options, depending on whether or not you have the confidant:

without Akechi's confidant at stage 9

Joker can say either "I promise", or "Leave it to me". Aww, he's a good guy at heart, is our Akiren. This guy tried to shoot him and everything.

And what's Akechi's response? He opens his eyes, nods and smiles.

Aww. But note that he ALWAYS sacrifices himself, and for the same reasons. The difference the confidant makes is not to do with that—it's to do with something quite different, which we'll explore below....

with akechi's confidant at level 9

Now here are the options we all know and angst over:

A stage 9 confidant Joker, who has that bond with Akechi, who had the stage 8 showdown with him in Mementos and got the glove, gets "You better deliver your promise" and "I'll hold on to your glove".

And when you pick your option, what does Akechi do? Well, for a start, he has an emotional response:

... remember we talked about how the "empty" icon, from the interrogation room, doubles as the "feeling some unnameable emotion" face? Well, here it is again; you can see the model doing the same thing behind the sprite. If you don't max his confidant, you never see this. Only an Akechi who has connected with Joker over the year gets this shocked response when Joker challenges him for the last time. And, to be honest, it's not all that unnameable an emotion. This Akechi, in his final moments, knows what he's doing, and why, and can admit it—at least to himself.

Akechi ハッ、この期に及んでそれを言う?全く君ってヤツは、本当に⋯ ha! kono ki ni oyonde sore o iu? mattaku kimi tte yatsu wa, hontou ni... Heh... After all this, that's what you have to say? Seriously, you really are... Heh. That's what you say, at a time like this? I can't believe—you really are....

And it's only then that he trails off into the tiny smile.

Akechi never finishes that last sentence; he leaves something unsaid. Could be anything. Could be "ridiculous", could be "stupid"; could be any of Akechi's pet insults. But there's another possibility, that Akechi has been applying to Joker all along. He's called him it in this scene, before the fight. He called him it throughout his confidant. He's meant it more and more as the year has progressed.

That word is 面白い omoshiroi—"interesting, fun; fascinating". Yeah. "You'd better come through for me", Joker tells Akechi, who's about to die. "I swear to God," Akechi tells him in disbelief, "you never cease to amaze me."

At least, that's how I imagine it. And in my truther head, that's the difference between Akechi surviving and not. This Akechi, who couldn't care even when Cognitive Akechi had a gun to his head, gets something to live for at the last second; the one in the no-confidant engine room, who never appears in the post-credit sequence, did not.

Here's the excerpt:

Baww.

the end of the scene

Cognitive Akechi: You bastard... Akechi [struggling to his feet]: So, my final enemy is a puppet version of myself...

... and immediately fork for the second time.

Akechi [without confidant]: Not bad. Akechi [with confidant]: I...!

"I"?? "I", Akechi??? WHAT WERE YOU GOING TO SAY?

Non-confidant Akechi has settled for the irony of taking out "the puppet [he] was" (ningyo datta ore jishin, localised as "a puppet version of myself"); he considers this "not bad". This is also the line you get in vanilla P5, where the confidant was automatic.

But confidant Akechi's sentence is unfinished. He has left something undone. He has something left to say, something left to do. Something to live for.

I wonder what it is, at that moment, that he's regretting, or determined to do, or undo, or redo. What it is that gives him the strength to survive. Because we're all friends here; we all know he makes it, somehow.

The only hint in the original is that his line is not just ore, but ore wa—Akechi is comparing himself to others. So the sense is perhaps that Cognitive Akechi is "the puppet he was", but Akechi himself is no longer a puppet. It's good. But non-confidant Akechi would share that same sentiment. Something more is going on here.

With that, we move on to the end of the scene:

Haru [running forward]: Akechi-kun! Ann [stepping forward]: Isn't there some way to get this open, Mona?

[two gunshots are heard, about a second apart—and yes, they are identical in both routes and both language tracks]

Futaba: His signal is... gone... Futaba: I'm only getting... the weaklings... Ann: No... Morgana: Come on, you guys! Morgana: We can't let a rotten criminal like Shido do what he wants any longer! Morgana: We can't... no matter what!

Two things here. First, the second's delay on the gunshots seems... odd; I'd expect the shots to be either simultaneous or for there to be only one shot. Maybe someone who's ever seen a gun can clarify this. Though the fact that the shots are always identical suggests that this is not significant.

Second, Futaba always has both of her lines. I've seen it said that these are different depending on your confidant track, but no. She always says she can't detect a signal, and she always says she only detects the "weaklings".

I do find it interesting that, like the true ending cutscene, these tracks are so much more different than I realised depending on your Akechi choices. One of these paths is also clearly much more interesting than the other—the Akechi confidant track is the "true ending", the true plot; the other is there for the weirdos who just hate murder and treachery and pancakes, idk. Which is why the no-confidant 2/2 scene, where Akechi never shows up and is revived because Maruki thinks all the PTs want him back, doesn't make so much sense.

#persona 5 #p5 meta #japanese language #engine room #goro akechi

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superblysubpar · 1 year

Text

A/N: for @newlips #newlipsmilestoneoflove event! congratulations cece - you're truly so talented & inspiring - thanks for always working hard to bring the community together. And thank you for bringing personaltrainer!steve into my life, I hope this version of him lives up to the hype! To my lovely girls - thanks for literally holding my hand and forcing me to post this, it wouldn't have even been written without your constant encouragement & hive brain help.

I Want It, Can't Have It

personaltrainer!steve x fem!reader

Summary: Your co-worker Steve and you refuse to admit defeat in a game of who will give into their suppressed feelings for the other first. | masterlist | steve's music | NSFW 18+

WC Range: 5k-10k

Warnings: use of Y/N, Y/L/N, and too many petnames / talk of jealousy & comparison / a woman showing too much skin in the 80s?! Good heavens! / smut (unprotected piv - creampie, ass slapping and teasing, asking to cum, & public - locked bathroom door but people def know)

The smell of chlorine and lemon disinfectant, flickering fluorescents overhead and the record breaking ton of body spray wafting down the hall are making the tiny men with jackhammers inside your head work overtime today.

Hearing him before you see him, you shake out a second pain reliever - taking preventive measures for the headache that was only about to be made worse.

Whistling a top forty track, blazer’s squeaking against the tile of the hall - because he refuses to pick up his feet when he’s around you, and the thwip of a towel smacking a coworker’s ass as they banter all fall to your ears as he rounds the corner.

Steve fucking Harrington.

Unsure why, the two of you quickly agreed on one thing and one thing only upon your very first introduction: you positively hated each other and would do everything in your power to make sure the other never forgot.

Eyes trained on the staff clipboard you’re filling out for taking medicine from the first aid kit, you choose to ignore him as he grows closer. Pen scratching against the paper, your senses try to focus on writing out your full name instead of how good he smells. A hard thing to not notice when it’s compared to the hazardous waste for sweat from the teenage boys you’d been forced to endure for the better part of the last hour.

Of course, he can’t help himself and has to ruin the one thing that brings you semi enjoyment when in his presence, clearing his throat and nodding once, without even looking at you, “Jane Fonda.”

The use of one of the nicknames he refuses to let up with has your teeth grinding as you clench your jaw, “Bite me, Harrington.”

Steve spins, toned and tanned arms folded on the desk above you as he raises his eyebrows and tilts his head, hazel eyes peering down at you with contempt, “Oh good, glad to see you’re in a swell mood as always.”

Shoving the clipboard back into its slot, you push back in the rolling chair, relishing in his clenched jaw when the wheel squeaks a little too loud - two can play at the causing a headache game. An exaggerated pout forming on your lips as you force a bubbly and higher tone, “Oh. I’m so sorry. Let me go curl my hair, pop on a bright pink lip, and add an extra little perky bounce to my step so you can ogle my ass in bright blue spandex.”

“Could ya?” Steve’s lips shift up into a lopsided smirk at you.

Huffing out a breath and crossing your arms, you can’t even get another jab in before his twelve o’clock bounces through the door. To neither of your surprise, she’s dressed exactly as you had just described - blonde hair piled high in a ponytail on the top of her head just like Barbie and just like you knew it would be. Watching Steve train her for the past several weeks has been nauseating to say the least. Her leg stretched up and over his shoulder, their smirks and less than subtle flirting, and her slaps and squeezes of his biceps in an eye twitch inducing sort of way.

“Hi Steve,” her voice sugar and spice and everything you’re not as she blows a bright pink bubble with her gum. You’re surprised Steve doesn’t pop it for her as he leans in close enough, one elbow still on the desk.

“Well, don’t you look cute today,” his voice deeper and full of a charm that’s very lacking from the way he talks to you.

Twelve o’clock Barbie beams and he gestures down the hallway, hand on her lower back as she brushes past him. Steve lets her trail ahead, tilting his head with a sigh as he watches her ass jiggle in all the right ways.

Scoffing at him, you chuck a rolled towel directly at the side of his head and hiss, “You’re such a fucking pervert!”

Steve spins backwards, clutching his chest and groaning through a wide grin, “I love it when you talk dirty to me babe.”

Eyes narrowing at him as he high fives one of your coworkers as he turns back around, arm wrapping over the shoulders of Barbie. Her bright and bubbly laugh trails all the way down the hall back to you, “So, did you catch the game last night?”

Steve hums, “I don’t think so…which teams were playing?”

“Oh…uh…the Cubs?”

Rolling your eyes with a snort at her question of a response.

Baseball.

It’s fucking February.

Randy, your co-worker, snickers and then looks at Dylan who rounded the corner as well, shaking his head, “Five bucks he pretends he did watch the game and does her in the locker room?”

Dylan laughs, sticking out his hand for a deal, “Ten if he gets her to tell him details of the nonexistent game too.”

The boys look at you laughing and don’t even try to hide their conversation or amusement with Steve the manwhore Harrington. You’re just one of the guys here, and something about this fact that’s never bothered you before, this interaction you’ve had many times already, is burning your blood a little more than you’d care to admit.

Their words about her perfect hair, the curve of her ass in the spandex, and the low cut of the leotard are only flashing spotlights to your exact opposite features you can see in the reflection of the glass windows. Dull and sweat matted hair shoved under a baseball hat, dark and muted tones of your joggers and sweatshirt - which now has a stain on it from lunch. Curves don’t exist, your footwear is sensible, and your skin doesn’t have that perky glisten or glow - it’s sweaty and flushed in all the wrong ways.

Yanking your whistle down from the hook, you push past the boys. You could care less about 12 o’clock Barbie and you’re happy with your life. Confident you don’t need someone like Steve Harrington in it to make you feel fulfilled because you are independent and have a clear and level head atop your shoulders. A man staring at your ass isn’t what you want, you want to be appreciated for your brains, personality, your interests - screw pretending to like baseball to get a guy to sleep with you. You want the one who knows you like it and genuinely wants to talk to you about it, baggy sweatshirt and all.

But when you hear a giggle and see Steve and 12 o’clock Barbie sneaking into the bathroom your stomach somersaults and something in you snaps, shouting down the hall, “Harrington! Nobody’s paying you to sleep with clients!”

Steve freezes, his strained muscles and vein in his neck visible even at a distance and his face reddens. He’s pissed.

But he turns with a bright and forced smile as Barbie dips into the locker room with an inflamed face as well. Steve walks down the hall towards you, arms crossed and head tilted, “What the hell is your problem?”

You have a lot of problems. Number one being you don’t understand what possessed you to do that, but you can’t tell him that, obviously. Queen of thinking on your feet though, you cross your arms and cock your head, “Wouldn’t want you to lose your job for not being able to keep your dick in your pants is all, buddy.”

He scoffs loudly, stepping closer to you until your back hits the wall, “Really? I would’ve thought you were the first person wanting me out on my ass, Mary Lou.”

Rolling your eyes at the new nickname, you try to side step and get out of there but his hand pushes to the brick over your shoulder, caging you in.

Steve towers over you, faces close together and he smirks as you squirm under his insistent gaze. Steve leans closer, “Oh, I get it,” he whispers, nose almost touching yours. He’s close enough for you to see his lashes, the gold flecks in his eyes, and the freckles that dot his nose. His breath mint and charm fanning across your cheeks as he continues, “You’re jealous.”

“As. Fucking. If,” you hiss at him, nose bumping his just barely as you lean forward and narrow your eyes.

Steve and your shallow breaths mix and amplify in your ears, everything else muffled like it’s underwater. Fingers clenched into fists at your sides, Steve’s tongue dips out to lick his bottom lip. Yours part involuntarily, his eyes glint, the mossy color deepening to a mix of dangerous forest and stormy sea and god fucking dammit, you sigh.

Someone, somewhere in the universe, slaps you in the face in the form of Barbie dipping out of the locker room and pulling both of your attention in a blur of turquoise. Steve’s arm drops and he steps back, a smile on his face again as he turns to her, “Hey babe, ready?”

He leaves with her and it isn’t until you see them disappear around the corner and you count to five that your muscles start to unfurl, fingers uncurling from where they had been pressing crescent moons into your palms.

Your head falls back against the brick, “Shit.”

Snapping the palette closed, you stare at the contents littering the counter of your bathroom, untypical for a weekday.

No. You will not wear eyeshadow to your job at a gym.

With time to reflect on what happened with Steve on Friday, you’d only stewed and steamed more about Barbie. Steve calling you jealous? Of what? Her perfect hair and skin and body and that she was the one who got his eyes to linger?

Please.

Steve just loves that you’re not drooling and falling over yourself for him - a challenge, a toy he can’t have. You’ve worked with him and the boys long enough and they’re all the same. They love having a pretty thing wrapped around their arm, a token to remind them they’re a winner, because it’s all just a game. They live for the rush of the chase and the high of someone screaming their name like a stadium full of fans. And you know without a doubt, Steve calling you jealous and the incident on Friday was his tip of the ball to his side of the court. He wants you to beg for it. And you’re not going to do that, because you know that it’s actually Steve who wants you.

Smirking, you pull out an outfit you’ve yet to wear to work, a little giddy from the plan that’s slowly formulating. Steve isn’t the only one who knows a thing or two about playing games, and it’s time to show him who he’s up against.

As typical with Steve, he shows up after you to work that day. He’s always balancing a gym bag on his shoulder, jacket slung across only one arm like he couldn’t bother to finish putting it on, hair in disarray (spending the first half hour of his shift fixing it in the bathroom) and a bagel hanging between his lips, dropping sesame seeds across the floor.

Normally, Steve won’t even blink twice in your direction upon arrival. If he does, it’s only because you’ve gotten in his way, demanded he pick up the bagel crumbs, or you’ve done something else in the minute you’ve been in each other’s presence to annoy one another. Enough for him to remove the bagel and actually banter with you verbally instead of a grunt.

Today though, his blazers squeak to a sharp stop and much to your delight, the bagel falls out of his mouth and hits the floor, egg sliding out and splatting and echoing in the quiet entryway.

Grabbing your whistle and heading towards the gym for the morning meeting, you brush past him, looking over your shoulder as you call, “You better clean that up!”

A smirk still sits on your lips as you enter the gym and the conversation of all of the boys stops. Rolling your eyes at their lack of subtlety in analyzing your new look, you take your normal seat and start peeling a banana. Clearing your throat loudly, before small conversations pick up again.

“You look nice today, Y/N,” Dylan, who’s sitting next to you mumbles. He picks at a loose thread of his joggers, eyes flitting up to yours and back down to his pants.

Really, your outfit is not that crazy. It’s still in your color palette of cooler tones, you’re not even wearing spandex for crying out loud. A little bit of midriff showing has these boys blushing more than they ever have around you, and it’s hard to hide your amusement at how easily your plan is being implemented without barely lifting a finger.

Humming, you blink up at him innocently, “Thank you Dylan.”

He coughs into his fist, “Ye-yeah. Did you…did you do something different with your hair?”

Tilting your head at him, you time your laugh perfectly to Steve walking in, “No, nothing different with my hair…”

Dylan watches you, eyes eager on your mouth as you lift the banana up to your lips. Slowly taking a bite, you keep eye contact with him. Fluttering your eyelashes and humming around the fruit, his mouth falls open a little and it takes everything in you not to snort. Especially when a hand makes contact with the back of Dylan’s head and Steve’s bored tone falls directly behind you, “Are you twelve?”

Dylan’s cheeks turn pink and he turns sharply to the front of the room and you nudge his knee with yours, reassuring him it’s okay, before turning to face forward too. A small smile sitting on his lips and you relish in Steve’s sigh behind you.

Unfortunately, Steve seems to realize what you’re doing far sooner than you anticipated.

As your boss begins the meeting, hot breath fans across your neck, his voice low and barely audible even with his lips just brushing your ear, “Nice try.”

Your body betrays you and a chill runs down your spine, causing a shiver despite the embarrassed and irritated heat trying to reach every corner of your skin. You know if you turn around you’ll be face to face with a smug look and crossed muscular arms, so you don’t put yourself through the misery.

Steve is better at this, you hate to say it, but it just means you have to think of new ideas for your playbook.

Your clothes only get tighter and expose more skin each day. You’re playing dirty: leaning over him to grab a clipboard so your chest brushes against his arm, bending down to tie your shoe right in front of him, and at one point you tugged on the whistle around Dylan’s neck right in front of him before swaying your hips as you left him standing there shaking his head. But Steve barely broke, a tough competitor with a good defense and even better offense. Steve’s hand found your lower back in passing, brushing a piece of hair from your cheek, and his flirting with Barbie and other clients only got more obvious which you didn’t think was possible.

A week of going head to head with Steve in these little games all to prove that you weren’t jealous and it was him that wanted you. But, he was still determined it was the other way around, waiting for you to beg, to wave the white flag and just let him win. Today was your final straw, pulling out all of the stops - black spandex biker shorts and a black sports bra with, much as you hated to do it, a face full of makeup and hair styled.

When you arrive at work on Friday, you have to actively focus on keeping your composure around Steve because it seemed he was taking a final stand in this war as well - black baseball hat, shirtless while playing basketball, his shorts slung low on his hips.

You hate him.

Friday’s were slow though, thankfully, and had Steve and you basically switching jobs, you with clients and him in the gym - away from each other for most of the day. Or at least, you should be away from one another for most of the day.

Filling out a form while leaning against the counter, Steve’s voice draws your attention, “Hey, Muscles.”

A smile twitches on your lips and you look up to see him pulling a gray shirt on as he approaches, eyes lingering on the lines of his stomach, the trail of hair leading to a black elastic band peeking out of his shorts.

Turning your body towards him, you relish in his own lingering gaze over you as you tilt your head, “Muscles? That’s a new one. And, dare I say, a compliment?”

Steve leans against the counter, squeezing water from his bottle into his mouth, some dribbling out, and you hate that you want to lick the small bead of water directly off of his skin. He shrugs, trying to act nonchalant and turns his hat backwards before facing the counter. Drumming his fingers against it aimlessly, he glances at you out of the corner of his eye and sighs before admitting, “Well, you have been showing them off a bit more this week.”

Rising onto your toes, you drop the pen on the other side of the desk and risk a glance back at him. But he’s too busy staring down at your ass and you whisper, “Seen anything else you’ve liked this week?”

Steve’s eyes dart up to yours quickly, licking his lips as his hands land on top of his hat, his arms flexing as he breathes out a quiet laugh that ends in a groan, “Fuck.”

A smile worthy of a championship victory fills your face and he rolls his eyes. Before either of you can say anything, the voice of your boss hollers loudly across the room, “Y/L/N!”

“Yes sir?” turning to face him, you stand up a little straighter at his tone and quickly forming scowl.

He sighs as he approaches and glances at Steve who attempts to keep himself busy with a clipboard a few steps away. Your boss is nice, stuck in that sort of manly man kind of world and opinions, but nice nonetheless. You do good work and you’ve never had this sort of look opposite of you. He rubs his temples and he sighs, “I need you to find a change of clothes.”

Snorting before you realize he’s serious, he crosses his arms and you match him, your mouth dropping open as you ask, “Are you serious? Why?”

“Listen, just, this is a professional work environment and you’re showing a lot of skin and I need you to-”

Holding your hand up, you interrupt him, “That is absolutely ridiculous. No.”

He groans and grabs a stack of clipboards, “Don’t get upset, please. You’re a good worker and I don’t want to write you up but-”

Your laughter is loud and you throw an arm out to Steve who’s failing to pretend he’s not listening, “So Harrington can basically have his dick in a client, but I can’t show my shoulders and stomach?”

“Y/L/N! Enough! Get a sweatshirt. This is your only warning.” He walks away with the clipboards and you’re left seething, kicking the counter with a grunt.

Forgetting that Steve was even there to witness all of that, you’re reminded when a piece of fabric brushes your shoulder. Eyes snapping to his, you glare at him, yanking it from his outstretched hand and stalking away before he can give you any sort of pity.

Fingers brushing under your lashes, you refuse to cry about any of it, screw this place, screw your boss and screw Steve. It’s his fault you changed how you looked. It’s his fault your boss doesn’t take you seriously now. It’s Steve’s fault that you let a “victory” over something so stupid and juvenile cloud you from your work and your values. You changed your clothes, your appearance, and your attitude, and for what? To prove Steve likes a different version of you? Does it even feel good knowing you got his attention?

Pulling the sweatshirt on, you hate that you recognize that it’s his from the smell filling your senses. Hands shove themselves inside the pockets and they brush against a piece of paper. A folded sheet from a notebook with your initial on the front, you pull it open to see ‘Meet me. Bathroom. -Steve’.

Scoffing, you shove it back in the pocket and storm off towards the staff bathroom. He’s so full of himself, probably expecting to swoop in and comfort you and still score. You slam the door open and he jumps, grabbing at his chest before resting his hands on his knees.

“Jesus Christ, could kill a guy with an entrance like that.”

Closing the door and leaning against it, you cross your arms and hiss, “What do you want, Harrington?”

He stands and mirrors your stance, leaning against the sink as he shrugs, “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine. Thanks for the sweatshirt. Anything else?” you don’t make any movements to leave despite your better judgements.

He leans his hands back on the counter, smirking, “Well, I couldn’t help but overhear you’ve been thinking about my dick.”

Pushing yourself off of the door, you snort, “Seriously? Do you really think I still want to sleep with you?”

Steve’s smirk widens, lips upturned slightly higher on one side in a signature lopsided grin, “Still?”

Your hand points at him, stopping any sort of thoughts from running away, “No. Listen. Steve, you only started to give me the time of day when I dressed differently, when I acted like those other girls and I hate to break it to you, but I am and never will be like Barbie.”

Steve takes a step closer, toes of your shoes touching and he reaches for your wrist, thumb brushing over the skin tenderly in a way you never expected from him as he shakes his head, “You’re crazy if you think I wasn’t staring at your ass before this week, Florence.”

Heart thrumming at his admission, you tilt your head at the new name, “Florence?”

Steve’s fingers brush up your forearm, gliding under his sweatshirt, “Griffith-Joyner? Flo-Jo?”

Breath hitching, you’re starting to wonder if he’s looking up these women on purpose. Thoughts of Steve researching or deciding new names to call you outside of work sends electric jolts straight to your heart. He can’t know, and you can’t let him think you’re falling for any of this and you start to pull away. His fingers are on your shoulder now and he sighs. From how his eyes are peering directly into your soul, you know he already knows that you’re hooked - line and sinker.

He pulls you closer, fingers on the back of your neck, the other hand reaching up to cradle your jaw and his nose nudges yours, “Say you want this.”

Your hands work on their own accord, pushing up his chest to around his neck, head craning to arch back, rising on your toes slightly as your lips catch his barely as you breathe out, “You first.”

His hand on your neck squeezes lightly, laughing a little into your parted lips, “Fuck, you’re so stubborn.”

Steps falling backwards, your shoes are being kicked off your feet, “Wh-what time is it?”

Steve blinks at you, barely pulling away, his body pressing you against the door now, “What?”

Your hands find his hips, fingers dipping under the elastic waistband, “I have a 2 o’clock appointment.”

Steve breathes out, bottom lip catching your top one, “Shit, yeah, I’ll be…I’ll be fast.”

Laughing, your hands push at his shorts, “Is that supposed to impress me Harring-”

“Fuck, just shut up,” he commands, mouth swallowing the end of your sentence in a kiss.

Steve’s thumb brushes against your jaw as your mouths move with each other’s quickly, like that first sip of water after hours of sweating. Steve kisses you like it’s the first and the last, somehow tender and forceful, fingers tangling in your hair while his tongue pushes against yours.

Pants shed quickly, his other hand rubs against the front of your already wet underwear and he moans into your lips. Breaking away, you finish pulling his boxers down and bite your lip as the swollen red tip of his length twitches under your touch.

Steve’s fingers tug your underwear aside, finger running up and down through your slick in a way that makes your legs buckle. His breath is shallow against your skin, foreheads touching but you can still see his smirk, “Think you can handle it, pretty girl?”

Fingers wrapping around his length, you roll your eyes and ignore the way the ‘pretty girl’ makes your stomach flutter alive with a swarm of butterflies, “Please, it’s not that big.”

Steve laughs, a little too loudly, and your other hand slaps over his mouth. His eyes sparkle above you, gold flecks that seem like your own little personal spotlights, lighting you up in a way you didn’t dare dream of.

You are fucked.

But he can’t know that, he can’t win. Because despite the way his fingers dipping into your entrance suddenly has you gasping and your eyes rolling, the way your thumb swipes over his leaking tip has the same effect on him. It’s an even playing field and you’re determined to make him sweat a little more.

Your hands move around his neck, pulling his mouth to yours, “You have five minutes to prove me wrong, Harrington, think you can handle the pressure?”

Steve’s hands find your hips and lift you, your legs wrapping around his waist like you’ve done it hundreds of times before and he looks down at them with raised eyebrows, “Have you done this before?”

“Four minutes and forty eight seconds Steven,” you catch his bottom lip and he moans.

His fingers hold your underwear aside as he rolls his hips, coating his dick in your slick with a few swipes through you, tip catching your clit before sliding back down and pushing into you forcefully and without warning. He catches your scream and gasps with his mouth, nodding against you as he slowly continues to push into you. Your fingers grip the back of his head, causing his hat to fall off, as your head smacks into the door behind you, back arching away from it. Steve’s hands on your hips hold you steady, fingers digging into the plush skin of your ass as they caress down and cup it.

Once he’s fully inside of you, and your breathing seems to slow again, he pulls his mouth away just enough to whisper, “Knew ya could handle it.”

“Four…fuck…minutes” his hips roll against yours and a moan echos across the tiles and the distinct sound of a click of the lock as his hand reaches below you.

Your body heats with embarrassment, you hadn’t even thought about locking the door and Steve knows it. Your fingers tug at the back of his head in an effort to gain control again, yanking it a little too forcefully and he growls as you hiss, “Gonna move or not?”

Steve’s hands move back to your hips after giving your ass a harsher squeeze, pulling out of you slowly, “Are you ever not bossy?”

Before you can reply he’s pushing back into you, smirking at the way your mouth falls open and no sound leaving it as he hits the deep spot inside of you quickly. He continues his slow pulls and forceful pushes, the muscles of his shoulder tensing, able to feel each twitch and move under your hands through his shirt. His fingertips bruise your hips, dragging your slick walls back and forth across his length at an agonizing pace. Your legs locked around his waist, you glance down to where your bodies connect, the sight of your slick coating the rough patch of hair at his base making your walls clench around him tighter. Steve’s breath hits your neck, squeezing your hips even harder as he gasps out against your temple.

Smirking at his weakening defenses, you hide your own insatiable desire, teasing, “Harder, Steve.”

The boy whimpers, nose pressing into the sweat slick skin of your neck as his hips pick up their pace. The sounds of your shallow breaths mix with the sharp slapping of your skin, and he groans, “Fuck-I can’t…I can’t-”

“Come on, Steve, this is the best you can do? I thought you do this all the ti-”

He’s had it with your teasing finally it seems, and he pulls out of you harshly, arm wrapping around your waist to spin you before yanking you back against his chest.

Wet lips brush your jaw from behind, arm squeezing in a warning around your stomach, “Tell me what to do again. See what happens.”

Biting the inside of your lip, you don’t trust your voice to not give away the tidal wave of arousal that’s threatening to crack the dams you have in place. A breath out through your nose before you whisper, “Don’t be mean.”

He laughs against your neck, lips dragging down and awaking a sea of goosebumps to rise across your skin. He speaks into the sweat kissed dip of your shoulder, “So, she dishes it out, but can’t take it?”

Before you can even respond, Steve’s pushing your back, chest falling to the counter in front of you as his hands find your hips. His voice is stronger, deeper, rougher as he commands, “Open.”

Your head falls forward, eyes squeezing shut at his tone, thighs sticky and pushed together tightly from the arousal that’s reached its breaking point with barely any touching and a simple word.

The swollen and wet tip of his cock presses into your ass as he squeezes your hips, “Baby, don’t make me say it again.”

Every time he’s called you a name other than an athlete has you seeing stars already, wanting to keep playing the game to see how many more you can collect. Pressing yourself against him, you arch your back as you pout, “A please would be nice.”

His hand connects with your ass, a sharp smack that echoes and stings as he mocks, “Please?”

Legs falling open easily, he slides himself through your slick, dragging and coating his tip in your arousal even more, you know you’ve lost, because he’s the one with the power now. His hand pushes between your shoulder blades, the other gripping the dough of a cheek, slapping it again as his tip bumps your swollen nerves with a precision you know is one hundred percent on purpose and stupidly accurate.

Without warning again, Steve pushes into your entrance, a cry stopped by the press of your teeth into your bottom lip as your fingers grasp for purchase on the flat surface beneath you.

Steve’s agonizing pace from earlier is gone, slamming his body against yours in a brutal and bruising speed. Your hands start to push against the counter and Steve’s hand drags down your spine, pushing on your lower back gently in contrast to his forceful command, “Don’t move.”

Walls tightening around his cock at his tone, the sounds of him pulling and pushing into your dripping center mix with the quiet bump of your knees hitting the cabinet in front of you rhythmically.

His fingers not on your back knead into the plush skin of your ass after smacking it lighter than before, but still hard enough for you to tighten around him again. He moans, huffing a long breath out of his nose, “Fuck, like being told what to do, huh?”

Hips never stopping their harsh thrusts, your breath sticks in your chest as you keep your moans stifled, threatening to bubble up and past your lips as he smacks the same spot again, the sting coating your lashes in wetness as he whispers, “I asked you a question babe.”

It’s a breath, and if you couldn’t see yourself in the mirror in front of you, you may not have even realized you admitted it, “Yes.”

Steve’s fingers trail from their soothing kneading against the red skin, to your hip, brushing down your thigh and back up. His hips roll and he picks up his pace, humming out a content sigh at your admission. His eyes lock on yours in the mirror and he smirks, “So good for me, being such a - shit,” his eyes close as you push your ass back against him, slipping him in deeper than before, fingers dragging on the cool counter. He grunts through the rest of his sentence, “You’re so mean to me, but this is what you wanted all along, yeah?”

Moaning at his question, your eyes squeeze closed, the coil inside of your stomach pulled tight, body vibrating and chasing that breaking point until you have to release. He leans forward, brushing his lips against your shoulder, hands back to your hips as he hits that deep spot inside of you repeatedly with bruising accuracy. Steve smiles against your skin, “You act all disgusted by me too, and turns out,” his lips and nose glide across your muscles, warm breath fanning across your skin and his fingers brush back up to your hips as his mouth opens more against you, trailing to your neck. His breath shoots the tightening in your stomach into overdrive and a whine falls from your parting lips as his fingers adjust on your hips, whispering, “You’re just as much of a slut as I am.”

Eyes fluttering and breath hitching at his comment, your back arches up again, but not far enough before he presses his weight against you. Pushing himself faster and to a spot that feels like you can feel him rearranging your guts and you both moan loudly, his breath hitting your neck in a way that has your fingers searching for purchase beneath them, whining louder and your knees aching to collapse.

Steve gasps harshly, sucking in a deep breath he can’t quite finish, the sound directly in your ear and before another moan can break past your lips, his hand is coming up to press over your mouth. Your eyes rolling back as he whispers against the shell of your ear, “Be good baby. Wouldn’t want anyone to get fired for not keeping their dick in their pants, right?”

Nodding your head as he slowly lets his hand go. Your sighs quiet until his other hand wraps around your waist, pressing the pads of his fingertips into your swollen button. You jolt at the stimulation he had yet to reward you with, knees losing their battle and buckling, Steve holds you up, grunting as you cry out quietly, “St-steve.”

Somehow quickening his pace, his thumbs circular motions match perfectly to the rhythm of his hips, “Quiet, come on, babe, thought you were good at following instructions.”

Whimpering as he thrusts into you harder, your body fully collapsing against the counter, cheek pressed to the cool of the stone underneath it. Steve’s swirls to your swollen nerves are the breaking point, the added weight that breaks you from pushing it any further, unable to do another rep and your lashes wet, “Steve, I’m gonna - fuck, I-”

He can feel you tightening around him, his own hips stuttering but the game isn’t over yet. His mouth drags down your neck and another shiver runs through you as he smirks into your shoulder, “A please would be nice.”

And with your own sentence thrown back at you, he’s won.

Eyes opening, you see his own watching your body swallow everything he gives it eagerly. Standing back up fully, his cheeks flushed pink, hair sweeping across his forehead. His fingers dig into your hips as his bottom lip pulls between his teeth. His head falls backwards, breath huffed out of his nose.

“Please.”

Unsure if he says it again or it’s you, both of you collapse into the feeling of releasing. His thumb continues its circling as his hips stutter un-rhythmically. Both of you gasping out for breath as your walls milk his release and your body relaxes into its own. Muscles unfurling, fingers flattening to the counter, back arching as his hand caresses down your spine in buzzing tenderness. Meeting gazes in the mirror again, his chest heaves in time with yours and your rolling eyes are met with a widening grin on his face.

A loud knock comes from the door and you both jump, your hand slapping over your mouth as Dylan’s voice calls through the closed door, “Y/N! You in there? Mr. Conners has been out in the lobby for ten minutes!”

Steve leans forward, grabbing your hand from across your mouth. He presses it down, covering it on the counter with his large one. His other squeezes your hip as he stays buried inside of you. He nips at your neck and you squeak out, “Uh-I, I’m not feeling well, can someone else do it?”

A huff on the outside of the door and Steve’s mouth starts sucking a bruise into the skin below your ear and you smirk, calling out more confidently, “I bet Steve could! He’s not doing anything today!”

Steve pinches your waist and you yelp, walls tightening around him and he moans loudly at the feeling, still sensitive from his release. Reaching up awkwardly from your still bent position, you flick the side of his head.

A louder sigh from the other side of the door and a groan, “Man, fuck you Harrington. I know you’re in there with her!”

Steve and your laughter is hard to keep quiet as Dylan kicks the door, his voice trailing off as he walks away, “You just can’t let anyone else win can you? You two deserve each other.”

Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you thought, and I hope you consider reblogging my work to get it circulated to new readers - thanks for being here 💛

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