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mobbu-min · 2 years

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☆ Pretty Boy ☆

summary: in which, you're asked who you thought was the prettiest boy and not even a second later you respond with his name. unknowingly leaving him a flustered mess.

a/n: long time no see guys! but here's a little thing I worked on. school literally been beating my ass fr

characters: every housewarden

!tw! insecurities, grammar mistakes im too lazy to fix

Riddle Rosehearts <3

⋆ Riddle's face erupts in a spectrum of red. He’s far too shocked to do anything other than stare agape at the wall.

⋆ Prettiest boy? Him?

⋆ Surely you must be joking. But, you sounded so convinced. You said so fast and bluntly, that surely it's not a joke. That you mean it, right? Right?

⋆ Either way, this boy does not know how to act. He’s going through all stages of denial and acceptance. He’s planning and unplanning how this could turn out for the both of you. He’s anxiously biting at his lip, picking at the loose threads of his blazer. Trying desperately hard to get back on track. Silently cursing(not really) you out for getting him off his game.

⋆ A part of him, a side he keeps hidden, deeply wishes that you meant it with all your heart. Because, he thinks you're very pretty too.

“Prefect, perhaps if you are not busy this coming weekend, you and I could get together.- What will we do? Well I planned a little stroll through the gardens, just you and I of course, and then after, we’ll get dinner- excuse me?…A-a date?! Am I asking you out on a date!?……..Well, if you’d be up to it, then yes. Yes I am.”

Leona Kingscholar <3

⋆ Leona knows he’s good looking. Annoyingly so.

⋆ But to hear you say he was the prettiest boy in all of NCR? Oh boy, his ego is twice its original size. (ha! take that vil!)

⋆ And no, he’s not smiling like a lovesick school girl because of you. Hell to the no. He just saw Malleus fall on his face, actually….SToP LoOKiNG At HiM!

⋆ Does he take your response as truth? Yes. Is he going to bring it up to you and embarrass you just for kicks and giggles? Absolutely, yes. Will he ever confess? ……probably, but first, call him pretty again.

“Pretty? Hmm, I’d prefer attractive, or down right smokin hot. But y’know, I don’t mind pretty if it’s coming from you. Hmmm? Don’t tell me my little herbivore is shy now? C’mon move those hands and let me see your pretty face.”

Azul Ashengrotto <3

⋆ This has to be one of Jade and Floyd’s pranks, right?

⋆ It was in fact not a prank, judging by the two background characters he’s never seen before.

⋆ Okay, it is confirmed that it is indeed not a prank. What now? Well obvi, stage two, embarrassment and quickly approaching stage three, denial!

⋆ Skipping those two stages, because for goodness sake Azul! Get a hang of yourself, man!

⋆ He quickly tries to think of a plan, a contract perhaps. Wait no, last time he tried that, you threatened to hide his cane and glasses. There has to be another way to…to…to….well, he’ll think of that later.

⋆ For right now, Azul is practically glowing in his seat.

“I couldn’t help but overhear, but tonight Monstro Lounge is having an event. Of course, you’re not forced to come, but I’d like to show a better side of me-I mean, my business! If you’ll allow it, that is.”

Kalim Al-Asim <3

⋆ Pretty! You just called him the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen!

⋆ Kalim is over the moon, Jamil has to go and get him down, and practically bursting at the seams. It takes him everything not to glomp you into a bone crushing hug right then and there.

⋆ But he wants to be slow with how he approaches you. Wants to take his time and plan a nice quiet-Yeah like that actually going to happen! Kalim throws a large ass party, nobody knows what it's for besides Jamil, and of course you're the guest-of-honor!

⋆ All of your favorites are there! Everything you could ever hope for lovingly set out and planned for you.

⋆ Kalim hopes this will express his feelings for you and show how happy your comment made him. If not, expect to be dragged in the middle of the party off to a magic carpet ride through the night sky.

⋆ You may be marveling at the pretty sky and stars, but Kalim’s eyes will never leave your pretty face.

“Wasn’t that fun! Let’s do it again! -What? You’re tired? Well that’s no good! Come on, let's have a sleepover. I promise you’ll have the best sleep of your life!- But first, mwah! A pre-good night kiss! Don’t worry there's plenty of more where that came from!”

Vil Schoenheit <3

⋆ Smug, if there was one word to describe Vil, it would be smug.

⋆ Of course, you’d answer with his name! He is the fairest of them all! You were state fact! Nothing but the truth!

⋆ So, why does his knees feel so weak? Why does his face feel warm? And most importantly, why does his heart feel like he just ran a marathon?

⋆ Well never mind that, Vil will not let your little praise get to his head and mess up his whole routine. And yet, as he readies himself for bed, Vil can’t help but linger on your words. Linger on the way your eyes softened and head shyly turned to hide in your shoulder.

⋆ And then those feelings return and Vil can’t do anything to stop them. Like acne it infests his heart and turns it to a bloody red. However, unlike acne, Vil doesn’t want to get rid of it..

"My sweet potato, if you ever feel down, feel free to come to me for assistance. I would love to show you some latest skin and hair products for you to try. And I would be more than happy to demonstrate it for you. Hmm? Ace said that your skin has been looking like Riddle’s face? How rude of that unripe spudling, like he looks any better! Ahem, I mean, perhaps you’d like to take up the offer now then? I’ll be making smoothies.”

Idia Shroud <3

⋆ …pretty….you just called him pretty….system overloading…system crashed…pew…pew…pew…pew…sjdpsjsjlaoap

⋆ There's not a single response from Idia for like five minutes. People think he's a literal statue, birds even start building nests on him for crying out loud! It's that bad.

⋆ But once he gets his system loading properly, oh boy, he let's out the loudest, most high pitched, scream, you think he's getting murder(or seeing someone in the first time in months) He's a whole ass volcano fr.

⋆ He doesn't get it. He really really doesn't and now he thinks you're weird, like really fuckin weird.

⋆ Because he's not pretty. Vils pretty, Mega super dragon boss is pretty, that blue hair normie you hang out with, he's pretty, hell even you, yourself, is pretty! But Idia?

⋆ Yeah, he's scheduling you an eye appointment asap.

⋆ Idia doesn't get you and he never will, at least not yet. He doesn't get what you see in him, why you thought he was the prettiest boy you've ever seen, but for some reason that night, when Ortho was charging and it was just him alone, he could finally look at himself in the mirror and not be repulsed with who looked back at him.

⋆ For once, he finally saw himself as Idia, the prettiest boy in your eyes.

‘A-are you available tonight? Eh? W-w-why?!....oh, ummm, there’s a new game that's coming out and I…I wanted to know if you wanted to be my player 2!’

Malleus Draconia <3

⋆ Hmm, how strange of you. You never cease to surprise him.

⋆ Malleus is used to being called a gallery of different names. He’s heard it all. Pretty being a rare one in the collection. He’s much more used to being called handsome, but pretty? Well, Malleus could get used to that. Especially if it's coming from you.

⋆ Malleus is the one to confront you right after. Thank you for your kind words, ignoring the way his stomach fluttered and cheeks flushed, and promptly disappearing. He’s not sure what exactly to do with this...feeling. It's the first for him, so he finds himself thinking he might have gotten ill. Perhaps, your kindness is truly infectious, like Sebek says.

⋆ However, do not fret! Papi Lilia is on his way to do whatever he does best!

⋆ Malleus is surprised, yet he isn’t in denial or flustered, he’s actually at ease. Relaxed really. Because he can finally put a name to this feeling that infects his heart every time you're around. He knows why his heart felt like it was on fire and why his knees felt weak.

⋆ Because you have infected him, you've been cursed with a disease called love. A disease Malleus doesn’t mind living with as long as he stays the prettiest boy in your eyes.

"You’re quite lovely yourself, my dear Child of Man. Stunning really. You put the stars to shame, the wonders of the Universe to shame, the most stunning jewels are nothing compared to the twinkling of your eyes. My dear, you say I’m pretty, however I believe you're down right gorgeous."

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bitchlessdino · 7 months

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Dearest friend (m)

pairing: bsf!seungcheol x afab!reader Genre: angst, smut Word count: 2.8k tags: unrequited love, mentions reader in heels and wig, mentions of TOXIC romantic relationships, public kisses, unprotected sex, please let me know if im missing anything Summary: When you're in a toxic relationship, there's no way of understanding that right away. There's typically much trial and error, such as Seungcheol and his unsuccessful relationship with his on-and-off partner that he keeps getting you involved in. In one of the countless schemes to get them back, things take an unexpected turn with you, his best friend, who does something that may change their dynamic forever. author note: I'm back lovies. hopefully for longer this time. teh wedding planning has honestly kept me very busy but i've finally got back in tune with writing again. let's see how long this last.

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @homerunhansol @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @wonuhour @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @himbocoups

He had been with them throughout high school. Throughout college. Into their mid-twenties. Before anyone could realize it, a decade had passed.

You were friends, his specifically, and you lived through every suffocating second while trying to balance your own lack of love life. Night after night, bouncing from body to body, one candlelight dinner to another, and for nothing to come out of it. You weren’t one to judge the relationship coming apart and sewn back together redundantly.

However, this on-and-off relationship had become a constant in your life–one both annoying yet entertaining depending on the circumstance–as well as their mind games that they constantly used to get back together. And they wonder why it never fucking works (you’re practically screaming it into the void).

This was their off period and for Seungcheol one of the most terrifying periods to have. This instance in particular because it’s the rare occasion that his ex was actually out on a date with someone. That’s when he conjured up a plan, a despicable one. One that not only would so-called ‘help’ his long-time former lover to realize what they’re missing being apart from him but would put you in a deeply comfortable situation.

You’ve been a part of of schemes before, but they were usually surprise events, mitigating, or simply becoming the one end of Newton’s cradle, providing collision and causing friction until the balls lose momentum. This assistance unfortunately required more participation on the field, and you preferred being behind the scenes, but Seungcheol had forced your hand.

“You look awkward. Stop slouching.”

You offered the man a quiet, but deadly, middle finger at your waist as you struggled to stand in the tight outfit he deemed necessary for the plan to work.

It had been a while since you’d seen his ex, enough time that they wouldn’t recognize you, especially after the extreme makeover Seungcheol decided to bestow upon you on a random Friday evening. You can’t emphasize enough that what you were doing wasn’t by your own will. Your best friend just really knew how to push your buttons. It was as if he had the manual of the ways you operate. Now you were wondering how you had yet cut him out of your life because of it.

“Fuck you, you blackmailed me into a pair of heels and a wig.”

His lips tugged up at a single corner, pulling you by your waist as he noticed his ex’s eyes flicker towards them. He mused in a smile as his lips drew closer to your ear intimately, fanning his breath against your cool cheeks. “The eagle has landed in the coup,” he whispered, blatantly ignoring your complaints.

“This is so…stupid.”

He erupted in boisterous laughter–emitting feigned warmth and life–as he trained his eyes on you. “You’re so cute,” he tucked the locks of the wig behind your ear, softly hurting his teeth as he spoke through them. “Laugh.”

“Ha, ha, ha, ha.”

He scoffed lightly enough that it couldn’t be detected from afar, caressing your arm to maintain the facade. “That was awful.”

“Well you’re unfunny and this is an unfunny situation.”

“But it’s working,” he retorted, giggling to himself. “They can't bear to take their eyes off of me.”

You rolled your eyes, trying not to pay attention to his hand softly stroking your waist. You’ve managed to get past its initially ticklish sensation until it became as natural as breathing. You sighed exaggeratedly, causing him to brush against you closer. He sharpened his features, stern written all over his face. “Take this seriously or they’ll see under our ruse.”

You scoffed. “It’s so painfully obvious. They’re not an idiot.”

The tip of his nose brushed against your cheek, and he could practically feel the rage radiating off his target as they too pressed closer to their date in plain sight. You felt his smile against your skin, festering body heat until it was seething. “Tell that to them who’s giving me sex eyes right now. God, they look amazing.”

“Really? I’m right here,” you said light-heartedly, trying to joke in the awkward situation.

“Shit, why do they look like they're trying to leave?”

“Uh, maybe because they’re in the same room as their ex? Seriously. Think, Cheol.”

Impatience was never Seungcheol’s favorite activity. He was as jittery as a child with sugar. “Kiss me.”

You squinted at him accusingly. “Excuse me?”

“We need to really push them to the edge.”

“Yeah, but is kissing necessary?”

He determinedly nodded. “Yes, absolutely. Just do it.”

“Now hold on, let’s think about this.”

“You do it or I will.”

“Fine!” Your hands reached out for his collar, tugging him against you to crash into his silky, pillowy lips.

Even after his persistent pestering, the kiss came as a surprise to Seungcheol, who found the pleasantry in record time. His once stiff hands on your body simply melted around your figure just as your lips have and the warmth both comforting and delicious. Arousal pooled between your clamped legs, your hands tightened their grip on the cotton of his shirt. You could feel every muscle of his firmly wrap around you like a safety blanket, while his jaw engaged in following your pace. You flushed under his touch and your knees were losing strength as they buckled, nearly falling to the ground.

Seungcheol picked you right back with his palm flat over the small of your back, feeling the thud of your unresting heart beneath your clothes. Your hand crept against his cheek, his teeth softly pierced your bottom lip and pulled in his direction, muffling your whimpers between his lips. The position of his hands, squeezing your flesh shocked you back to consciousness and finally you jerked away, meeting his eyes long enough to see the darkness in them.

Your gaze fell to your feet, the whisper of his kiss lingering on your skin. “Are t-they gone,” You asked in a flustered hush.

For the first time, his eyes are finally on you. Truly in you, as if you were the only other person in existence. “Why did you pull away? Why did you stop?”

“I-I don’t know. It felt right to stop.”

“Well, it wasn’t.” The crook of his finger pulled you by the chin and brought you right back where you were, enraptured by the spell of his lips, somewhat more intoxicating than the first instance.

Your fingers combed through his hair as the small gap of your mouth is filled with his presence. Your vessel vibrated, tingling in the dryness of your throat as he moved against you starved, not at all bothered by the marble bar counter rearing in his lower back. His grunts were addictive, drunk without the substance. Without fearing doubt, you swallowed your pride–and Seungcheol’s lips–you fully took advantage of the current circumstance.

A fire kindled in Seungcheol’s stomach, instigating a roar that could only be tamed by the furnace of your body clenched to his sides. The mumble of his name on your lips was mistaken for a moan, and maybe it was, revving Seungcheol’s engine until determined to take you here and now, in the middle of a crowded bar where anyone could see.

Before the moment could prologue, your hands flattened against his chest and shoved him, gasping for air while he was frustrated to have been interrupted again. He met your eyes, ready to scold you, until he registered how shakey your presence was with eyes barely able to level with his. His watch softened at you as he reluctantly let go, overwashed with a sense of shame. “Hey, I—“

“I’m gonna take a second in the restroom. Please.”

He nodded, guilt seeping into his throat, droughting what was inside. “Okay.”

The second the door stall closed behind you, you took a deep breath and tightly shut your eyes. You rubbed your hands over your chest, feeling it pulse under your palm. Inhale and out. Shallow panicked breaths escaped the narrow gap of your lips, trying to relive the overwhelming pounding.

Right about now his ex must be throwing themself at him and they're seconds away from being sewn back together. Just like always. You expected this. You’ve accepted this. This was how things always were.

Why aren’t you over that by now?

You mustered whatever courage you had within and forced your feet out of that restroom, facing exactly what you expected, Seungcheol’s ex on him like a wild animal around fresh meat. You tore away from the scene immediately retreating to take the closest Uber out of the bar as soon as possible.

You abandoned your disguise near the door, hearing your wig fall limply to the ground. A sound of relief escaped your lips as you trodded off to the bathroom to wash away the grime of sweat and embarrassment. Your tears fell in sync with the shower head that enveloped you in desirable heat. Heat that you wished belonged to a body instead of a body of water. Your hands felt your face as you sobbed, knowing it wouldn’t escape past the bathroom door, or your apartment being alone, once again, like you always have been.

After the night you’ve had, you’re ready to go back to your regular routine and forget the mental break of indulging in fantasy. You were only meant to ever help a friend and now that friend is back where he should be: in the arms of someone he actually loves.

As toxic as their dynamic may be at least there is something romantic about it. You and him have been and will always be just friends, a side plot to the main story in his life. You are simply a pawn in this twisted game of chess and you have no one to point blame on but yourself. You let this happen.

Gathering your pathetic self to your room, you drowned in your duvet, cuddling up next to your pillow and burying your face in the fabric. After some time of thinking and crying, you at last find slumber, determined to erase any and all thoughts of your best friend.

As though this night couldn’t get any worse, someone else had to ruin your sleep too.

Annoyed, you rustled out of bed to head to the front door. Your heavy steps move with reluctance, fisting over the door knob as it swung open and suddenly you’re wide awake. He stared back at you, eyes glistening, shoulders falling at your comforting site. “Hey.”

“Hi,” You greeted back softly. “What—What happened? You and—“

“They asked me to come back.”

You blinked at him, stretching a faux smile on your face. “That’s great. That’s amazing! That’s exactly what you wanted…So why are you here?”

“Uh…” He closed the door behind and you let him step inside, placing himself dangerously close to you. “I said I’d think about it?”

“What? It’s all you’ve been wanting the entire time you were apart. The system, Seungcheol. The system.”

“I don’t know. I just wasn’t sure anymore after…”

You waited for him to finish for as long as you could. His steps towards you only resonated louder, prouder. Everything in you told you to back down, yet you stood your ground and met his eyes in anticipation. “After…?”

“Yeah. That.”

“Well, what does that mean…Cheol?”

Suddenly, it was so much harder to breathe and his body got only closer and closer, tightening your airways and overwhelming your senses. You didn’t push him away when his lips daringly landed on yours, hands finding purchase on your cheeks as you softly caressed them like fine china. Your torso lined up with his as you tossed your arms around his neck, deepening your connection.

He parted briefly to reassess the situation, the tip of his nose timidly tracing over the bridge of yours. “It means I want to…explore this more. Whatever it is.”

“And them?”

He shook his head. “They’ll have to keep on waiting because I can’t stop thinking about you since that kiss and by the way you're looking at me…you can’t either.”

“Seungcheol…”

“Don’t tell me I’m wrong,” he begged, “Please.”

“You can’t tell me you aren't still madly in love with them.”

“I wouldn’t be here if I was. Do you think I would be here if I didn’t have doubts?”

“… I don’t want you to end up doing something you’ll regret…forever.”

His hand clasped against your cheek, adoring the vulnerability that glows in your gaze. He admired your soft features, drinking in the quiver of your kiss-bitten lips as the flutter on your delicate lashes shielded from his bold light. He held you closer, drawing his lips nearer, and he breathed a breath of defiance. “I don’t think I regret a single second I’m with you.”

The kiss you shared didn’t express a moment of doubt, only flurries of passion as your clothes found their way to the ground. He kissed down your navel, balling fists of your flesh, nipping at your skin, inhaling your clean scent. You said his name in a swoon, bounded to him like warm clay, melting into one another with no points of separation.

Your hands roamed up his upper back, palming at his shoulder blades. He softly winced as your nails dug into his skin, his tongue lightly licking at a spot that emits the most sound from your lips. Your name on his lips comes in your ears, churning your stomach, burning your thighs. Your legs clamped to his side, feeling the brush of his cock as it twitched in your direction.

You ached to be filled, climbing his build in desperation. His familiar tufts of hair found their way between your fingers until you pulled, eliciting his starved moans. You beg and beg, meeting his eyes with much desperation. He was kissing your body, embracing you with so much love, but you knew you wanted more. More of him.

Seungcheol seemed to be a mind reader as he was already positioning himself. He towered over you with gratitude in his eyes, gratitude for the trust you gifted him. The vulnerability you finally gave into. The body and love that you once hid. He would appreciate it and not waste a single second to do so.

With a single hand caressing your face and one on his cock, he watched your eyes change as he plunged inside. He felt your thighs come up to the sides, hooking around his torso. He jerked his hips, memorizing the shape of your walls, and how they massaged him well, squeezing every inch of him until you were filled. Your head knocked back into the sheets, your nails now clawing up his arm. “Cheol…”

“I’m here,” he whispered. “I want to take care of you,” he admitted, “Let me know if anything goes wrong.”

You nodded back, accepting his kisses as they became signs of worship. He would touch every inch of your body, fill your warmth until it was coated in thick, sweet arousal of your own doing. He whispered your name, moaning sweet praises. “You feel so precious in my hands…I want your body and soul to bind with mine…I don’t think I could ever forget what this feels like…”

He moved faster, his hips buckled harder, and your fingers indented into the smooth texture of his back. He kept thrusting deeper and harder inside you until it was a blissful pain but you don’t remember ever replicating. With his sweet cherry-shaped lips on yours, you feel your sweat mix into a cocktail of pure delicious nectar. He mouthed a flush of your skin, clutching you to his body like a man getting mad, unwilling to give up his most prized possession.

His groans became ingrained in your brain and you felt waves of arousal stagger you, paralyze you. Your mouth dropped. “Oh god…” Your hands trembled. Your toes curled. “That’s so good, more please.” You begged and begged and begged and begged—

A knock at the door. A panicked one that.

You rose from bed, empty, cold alone. Your hand ran over your head, feeling the clammy, distressing remnants of your wet dream. Overwashed with guilt, you reluctantly pulled the covers off and got out of bed, dragging your feet towards the door, ignoring the wig that stared back at you in your peripheral. It swung open the familiar way it does, and déjà vu hits you.

Seungcheol stood before just like once did in the dream. He walked closer towards you, and word seemed to halt in your throat.

“They asked me to come back.”

Having already rehearsed this in your mind, you stretched in another fake smile, finding its chirp through your tired voice. “That’s great. That’s amazing. That’s exactly what you wanted. So why are you here?”

“I-I don’t know…I just thought I should tell you. Um, thank you.”

You nodded solemnly. This was reality after all. “Glad I can help as always.”

“You really are a great help. I’m lucky to have you as my dearest friend.” He grinned, not quite reaching his ears as if holding back something secrets he couldn’t bear either.

You didn’t think much of it and smiled. “Of course. Dearest friend.”

#svthub #seventeen smut #scoups smut #seungcheol smut #choi seungcheol #seungcheol #seungcheol x reader #seventeen seungcheol #seventeen x reader #seventeen fanfic #seventeen x you #seventeen x y/n #seventeen #seventeen angst #seungcheol angst #scoups angst #choi seungcheol angst

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saintbleeding · 3 months

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i don't think those are the whole and intact jon, martin, or jonah* in there

here's why

so before i get into this i need to mention that the ideas im riffing on here came from a conversation with @bigmilkagenda who is smart and brilliant and beautiful.

but i was thinking, and what do the existing accounts we've heard have in common? obviously, there are different degrees to which and ways in which these ideas are engaged with between each account, but extremely broadly:

we have ideas of the irreversible alteration or corruption of the physical form, and how that does and does not correlate with personhood and the self. specifically, how do these physical changes intersect with identity, and at which point can someone be said not to be there, themselves, anymore?

"some of him"?

i think it's safe to assume that redcanary, inasmuch as they were a mischievous little urbex enthusiast, cannot and will not be returning in the form that they left, if indeed they return at all

daria, though they are willingly engaging in the process of change and transformation, also doesn't have full control over the process, nor the results, if their preference not to be seen on camera is any indication

dr webber... well. gestures vaguely at the all of that.

there's another common theme amongst these, to me: there are varying degrees of suggestion of a judgmental observer, or a more general but prominent idea of seeing and perception. the subject of the first case (who i'd heard fandom ppl calling harry but who the official and unofficial transcripts both refer to as harriet, but that's not my point rn, just a thing i noticed) obviously experiences the horror of what they go through because, mostly, of the visuals of it.

the fuckin magnus institute.

daria's experience both with ink5oul's assessment of them and the whole livestream experience (which is chilling tbqh)

the increasing suggestion thru dr webber's journal that maddie is very much there (to him) and overseeing what is happening to him, appraising, if not judging directly.

so we've got a joint idea of loss of one's physical structural integrity/questions of both mortality and identity, and we've got an idea of perception and sight.

here's where i need to make a logical leap, but essentially, this thematic focus is making me think that there is something Less Than JMJ in the system (ghosts in the machine as it were), but that, if and when that's examined, it will not lessen the impact and poignancy of what they're experiencing, what they're capable of thinking or feeling, etc.

*i think it's equally possible, at least at this juncture, that J.02 isn't necessarily Literally Jonah Magnus: the wiki says that james wright "died" in 1996, and although that doesn't correspond directly with the institute's fire in 1999, it's possible that things progressed differently in this universe, and maybe he was the director of the institute at the time. but also this is much more speculative than my other points, i just think it would be neat!!!

#tmagp #tmagp spoilers #<- mention and discuss ep 3 in enough depth that u should skip this post if u havent listened yet fyi #my #im shaking this idea like a chew toy tbqh

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oh-katsuki · 6 months

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bird of prey (tendou x reader)

series masterlist | ao3

Pairing: Tendou x Reader, Bokuto x Reader

Series Summary: Satori Tendou is your best friend, but you fuck for fun.

Chapter Title: Act I, Scene 1 — Play Like Lovers

Chapter Summary: Satori likes your current arrangement. You're friends, arguably the best of friends, and sometimes you fuck. Well, it's more than sometimes. Like rabbits, really.

Chapter Content Warnings: afab!reader, college au, friends with benefits, no strings attached, angst, oral sex (m!receiving), teasing, bokuto is in this too, ushijima mentions, mentions of breeding, mentions of pregnancy, slowish burn (?) they're already fucking tho so romantically speaking, teasing, dirty talk

Word Count: 6.7k

A/N: i missed tendou and ended up deciding to write this. i don't have any chapters prewritten so updates will likely be slow, but im trying out a new thing so bear with me. it's probably better read on ao3, but im posting it here too. formatting is the bane of my existence. enjoy <3

next >

Satori likes the cold. He always has. He likes the bite of it. The way it makes his skin feel when he’s been standing outside long enough that the cold begins to feel hot across his cheeks.

There’s a certain solitude to winter that Satori appreciates. It’s as if the world has had a blanket thrown over it and everything becomes muffled and quiet. Sometimes winter makes Satori feel like he’s on another planet, floating through a silent universe in a perpetual winter. He especially feels this way when it snows. He loves the world when it’s like this, calm and quiet and so hazy that he can’t see the street sign a block down.

Satori blinks winter from his eyes, furrowing his eyebrows as they begin to water to fight the cold. He inhales, tucking his hands further into his puffy jacket as the crisp air fills his lungs. It’s a quiet night. The first snowy one of the season, and snowflakes fall like little diamonds onto a thinly coated sidewalk.

He doesn’t have a particular destination in mind. Satori is just wandering, savoring the feel of the evening as he strolls through his neighborhood. There are a scant few people outside. It's a weeknight and the neighborhood surrounding campus is eerily quiet in these small hours of the morning. Only the occasional drunk or a couple loved up and leaning on one another, their hands intertwined in the pockets of one of their coats.

Tendou thinks that he could only become one of those two options. The drunk seems to have far less to worry about, stumbling across the sidewalk before coming to a stop on a slanted curve and letting his head fall onto his crossed arms. Not that Satori would want to be him. Don’t get him wrong. He’s not judging. How one man lives his life is absolutely none of Satori’s business and, in the same way he prefers people don’t mind what he does, he won’t mind what the neighborhood drunk does. Still, on a sliding scale of difficulty, the drunk seems to—for the moment—have it easier in Satori’s eyes. Only one person to worry about.

It’s nearing three in the morning and the world has taken on an eerily slanted feel to it. Satori likes the world like this, calm and quiet. No one to talk to or worry about, only the sound of his boots against the thin layer of snow. There’s no crunch, as it hasn’t stuck yet, but if it keeps snowing like this, Satori thinks that it might. He looks forward to it, tilting his head up toward the sky and feeling the soft sting of bitter cold snow as it falls on his cheeks.

—

Teeth, tongue, the press of your body arching up to meet his. It’s hot today, the way you move. Rushed like you’re trying to get something done. Music plays quietly from your computer on the desk and your hands fumble blindly around his body, eyes screwed shut as you let your tongue explore the inside of his mouth.

“You’re eager,” he coos, detaching himself from your lips.

“Sh, sh, sh,” you mumble, pulling him back down to you by the back of his neck and delivering a sloppy kiss. “Keep your voice down.”

“Why?” He asks back, still connected at the lips.

“My housemates don’t know you’re here,” you answer, pushing on his shoulders.

Tendou gives in, letting you turn him over on the bed so that his back is against your headboard. You settle over his hips evenly, placing yourself like you belong there. He wouldn’t be surprised if you felt that way. This is regular enough that you end up like this a lot. Straddling his thighs with your hands on either side of his face.

You tilt your head, kissing your way down his jaw. Your lips press onto the side of his neck and he can feel the way your tongue darts out to taste the salt on his neck. Your hands roam freely up the other side of his neck and across the back of his head, almost like you can’t feel enough of him fast enough. They raised goosebumps along his skin, teasing the parts your mouth isn’t touching.

“And I don’t really want them to find out,” you say into his neck. Tendou feels the hum in his collarbone and shutters.

“And why’s that?” He breathes out, his lithe fingers coming up to pull your hips down against him. Tendou figures that if you’re going to rock your hips back and forth like that, you might as well do it like you mean it.

“They’ll give me shit for hooking up with you all the time instead of getting a real date,” you answer through your breathing. “Something about self respect.”

Tendou leans his head back against the headboard, looking at you over the tops of his cheeks. You’ve pulled up his shirt and your body is curled over itself, your mouth smearing down his heaving chest as far as your posture will let it go.

He supposes that’s fair.

“Suppose you haven’t told them that the no strings attached thing is mutual?” He teases, tilting his head to the side to let you continue to kiss at his neck.

He slides his fingers under the fabric of your sleep shirt, cool fingertips hitting your warm back. Tendou presses his palm flat on your lower back and you shiver away from him, pushing your chest up against his. He likes the way you move. Something about it scratches an itch he’s got. Like watching marbles in a chain reaction.

“I have,” you say, reaching between the two of you to undo his pants. Tendou slips his fingers into the waistband of your sweatpants, cupping your ass in his hands. “They just don’t believe me.”

“Hah,” he laughs, tilting his chin forward to kiss you again. He likes the way you taste. “That’s funny.”

“Ugh, can we like,” you pull away from him, your eyes glazed over and your eyebrows furrowed. You keep one hand on the back of his neck, the other splayed on his chest and Tendou idly rolls the fat of your ass across his fingertips.

“Can we like, what?” He imitates through a grin, tilting his head. “Not talk about this?” You say, rolling your hips. “Because I really want to fuck you right now and it’s sort of killing my vibe.”

Tendou chuckles at the way you drop your head and roll your hips against him, tipping his head back again as he lets out a low groan.

“If it means we get to fuck then sure thing,” he drawls, guiding your hips over his crotch by the fat of your ass.

You groan, exposing the hollow of your throat to him as you lean backwards. Tendou leans up to meet you, placing his lips near your pulse point. He bites down on your neck lightly and savors the slight gasp you let out, salving the ache with a quick swipe of his tongue. You cling to him like velcro, rocking your hips over his hardened cock through your clothes. It’s so desperate that it’s almost juvenile, though you’re both well past the phase of being too prudish to not take them off.

He sighs, sliding his hands from your ass and up your back. He cups your shoulders around your body, letting you move your hips against him. Tendou finds that he likes to let you do what you want. There’s really nothing you can’t take from him and as far as he’s concerned, nothing’s off limits. He’s playing a game and right now, letting you win is the most interesting option.

You reach between them to pick up where you left off, fumbling in his pants to palm at him over his boxers, still rocking your hips against the inside of your wrist. Satori groans lightly at the weight of your hand. He likes it. His dick just fucking fits.

You slide your hand back and forth, teasing him the way that you know he likes it. God, in moments like these, Satori is convinced that you’re perfect. You and that perfect body, that perfect fucking pussy. All of it just sort of clicks.

The sexual chemistry between the two of you is palpable. It really always has been. Even when the two of you swore up and down that you were just friends, Satori knew that eventually you’d fuck. And of course, he was right. Months later and here he is, leaning up against your headboard after sneaking in through the window while you give him an over-the-boxers handjob that feels better than what he can do to himself for some reason.

You need it almost every night, and if it isn’t every night, it’s at least three times a week. You’re always together anyways, might as well throw some heavy petting into the mix while you’re at it. That’s just as well with Tendou. Personally, he’s always willing to fuck you if you need it. Especially when you need it. You just get this pretty look in your eye. It’s a lot like the one you’re wearing now, mouth slightly open as you free him from his boxers and swipe the precum from the tip of his dick with your thumb. Satori shudders. It’s perfect.

“If you’re going to fuck me, you should just do it,” he says, his face contorting slightly as you grip his cock in your hand and begin to shift backward between his legs.

“Shut up,” you retort, looking at him through your lashes. “I know you love this shit.”

“Yeah, fuck-” he groans as you take the tip of him into your mouth. “You’re right. I love a tease.”

Good conversation. Good sex. A good friend. There’s really nothing more he could ask for.

Satori brushes the hair from your face, holding it back on your forehead so that he can see the way your mouth takes him in. It’s soft and warm and you hollow your cheeks around his cock in a way that drives him insane. You look so pretty down there. So giving and malleable. And get this, you do it because you like it. God, how fucking sexy.

He likes the way you look from this angle, your eyebrows knitted together and your ass up in the air. He can see the way you rub your thighs together, small pulses that tell him that when he finally gets down there, you’re going to be soaked. You feel good too. Soft skin, soft mouth.

Satori lets out a groan, reaching forward to play with the meat of your ass. He kneads the skin there, rubbing his thumb back and forth against it as if he were just trying to feel it. It hides your face from him for a moment and Satori is sad for the loss, but your ass is soft and giving and you push it back against his hand like you like the way he touches you. Of course you do, Satori only touches you in ways he knows you’re going to like. It gets him off.

You swirl your tongue around his cock, your other hand gripping the base of him and moving along with your mouth. When you do try to take him all the way in, you cough lightly around it, raising your head to catch your breath before lowering your mouth back down. His lower stomach ties itself into knots. That familiar swell begins to mount in him and his muscles tense against his will. Your mouth works him until that slow moving wave pushes against whatever barrier it needs to break for him to finish.

You stop before he gets to cum and Satori feels that swell of pleasure recede into the back of his gut. He pouts momentarily, his chest heaving as you discard your sweatpants and crawl back over him.

Satori places his hand over your cunt like it's a habit. He rubs over your slick folds with four fingers, evening applying pressure across your whole pussy because he knows that it frustrates you. In response, you let out an exasperated groan and grind down against his hand. That only makes it better when he finally centers in on your clit, two fingers dipped between your lips to rubbing at the throbbing bud.

He plays with it for a moment, moving his fingers in a continuous circle. You’re so wet that Satori doesn’t even need to lick his fingers, but he does anyway because he wants to taste you. Slowly, he raises them to his lips and sucks your pleasure off of them, eyeing you while he does so. Then, he places his other hand on your chin and gently forces your mouth open, sliding his two fingers across your tongue.

The muscle gives under the weight of his fingers. Pleasantly, delightfully, you let him mold you. You let him open your mouth further and stick them deeper—all the way into the warm, wet back of your mouth—until you gag around them. It’s an awful sound. Wet and desperate and it leaves you panting when he pulls them out, but Satori likes you messy. He likes you when you’re drooling for it, saliva pooling under your tongue for just a taste of what he gives you.

Don’t get him wrong, it’s not a power trip thing. It’s borne out of pure fascination. Like the way scientists like to study molecules, Satori likes to study you. You’re interesting to him. The first to follow through on sex only being sex because Satori—well, Satori fucks you like he loves you. And he loves that you don’t get caught up in it.

You’re desperate for it today. Satori can tell because you don’t even let him finger you before you’re guiding the tip of his cock to your entrance.

“What? No condom?” He drawls through a sly grin.

“Not tonight,” you pant, screwing your eyes shut. Satori’s hands move to your hips, squeezing the fat there and admiring its delightful give. “Don’t have one.”

“What ever happened to safe sex?” He says through gritted teeth, craning his neck forward to get a good view.

“You worried you gonna get me pregnant?” you give a breathy laugh, sinking all the way down on him.

“Depends, you gonna let me finish inside?” he asks through a locked jaw as he feels the warmth of you envelop him.

“Fuck no,” you say, beginning to move your hips.

Satori inhales through his teeth, leaning backwards and holding you by the hips. You take the lead tonight, rolling your hips forward with slow, almost calculated, flicks. He guides you, his fingers gripping at the side of your ass, pulling it apart as best he can. He likes the way it feels when he holds you like this and wonders briefly what it looks like from the back when he lets you fuck him like this.

The music from your laptop is drowned out by the quiet sounds of your breathing. The only thing Satori really hears is the both of you, stifling moans to prevent your housemates from figuring out what you’re up to. He grits his teeth.

Satori has always been on the more vocal side of things. Talking, moaning, laughing, things like that. This though, this is hot too. Like this, he can hear every little change in your breathing. He can hear every time he hits that particularly sensitive spot inside of you. Shit, he can even hear his own breathing, labored and low and mirroring your desperation like you’re both cut from the same cloth.

He loves being inside of you. It’s comfortable. It always feels good in a way Satori has found is hard to come by. You’ve got a good pussy and an even better attitude about it.

When you get close, you always take in a sharp and fast inhale. It’s like a tell. Something that gives away just how good you feel. Satori loves the sound of it. Sometimes, he’ll edge you three or four times just to hear it, just to savor that sweet intake of breath. Tonight though, he’s going to let you have it easy. You deserve to have it easy tonight, as desperate as you are, and this is fun for him too. This position makes it easy to feel just how tight you get when you’re close, pussy clamping down around him at a fast interval even with the upward pumps of his hips.

He’s too impatient to let you fuck him on your own. Satori lets you have it your way, but he wants it his way too, accenting the roll of your hips with subtle pumps. He grips your hips, his fingers sinking delightfully into the fat there and holds you at a good enough angle to fuck. The weight of your breath comes heavy, that little accent and then a slow crawl from your lungs. You shudder, mouth falling open. And Satori, well Satori watches. In fascination, in awe, in sheer pleasure.

“Oh shit,” you breathe, glancing at him. “Yeah, yeah.”

Oh, he loves that. Those little nothings that you babble when you’re breathless and climbing towards that high. Satori can’t get enough of it. Your voice, the cadence of it, how heavy it sounds on your tongue when you force out the sex-laced words.

You crumble quickly. It’s almost desperate the way you push your hands onto his chest and let your head fall forward, cunt clenching down hard around him as you stop the roll of your hips to shudder. Your thighs press harshly against Satori’s sides and he digs his fingers into your hips to keep from cumming inside of you. That’d be pretty bad, though he can’t say that it’s not endlessly tempting.

You don’t waste a moment pulling yourself off of him, wrapping your hand around is cum-slicked cock and beginning to pump. You squeeze the head of it and Satori lets out a low groan. God, you’re being so quick about this that it would almost be jarring if Satori didn’t find it so fucking hot. You’re like… desperate for it. Christ, he thinks he’s gonna cum.

“Can I finish on your face?” He grits out.

“No,” you reply, teasing him by pressing your thumb over the head of his dick. “On your chest. I like it when you make a mess of yourself.”

Then, a familiar, teasing smile lights up across your face. Your breath is still heaving and it makes the expression feel more genuine. Satori leans his head back against the headboard eyebrows pulled upwards in his pleasure.

“You’re fuckin’ sadistic,” he laughs out.

It’s half a groan, his voice strained and thick with his imminent high. He reaches up to toy with your tits, anything really that he can grab. Satori gets handsy when he’s close and he feels the way pleasure mounts in his lower stomach like water fills a bucket.

Then, he peaks, his cum spilling out over his chest. Satori makes an effort to muffle his voice when he does, gritting his jaw and squeezing the flesh of your tit as an outlet for the pleasure of it all. The mess he’s made is warm, spilling into the ridges of his abdomen and the soft lines of muscle there.He’ll have to shower again when he gets home. For the moment though, he just watches his chest heave as you let go of his dick and reach to put two of your messy fingers in his mouth. Satori obliges, swirling his tongue around them.

“Hah, you’re disgusting.”

“You’re the one who likes it, sweetheart,” he drones, reaching to take some tissues from the nightstand and wipe up his mess.

“Throw those in the bin,” you say, laying down on your bed as he stands.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

Satori stretches for a moment, inspecting his clothes to ensure that the mess was minimal. He turns to look at you on the bed. Your eyes are closed, arms above your head with your sleep shirt riding up on your body, revealing a small glimpse of your fleshy stomach. God, he almost wants to fuck you again.

“Move over,” he says, bullying his way into the bed next to you.

“Fine, but you can’t stay for long,” you reply, lifting your head and putting it back down on his chest. You face the ceiling, picking at your nails. “I gotta shower and finish up a paper.”

“You have a paper to finish but you called me over to fuck?”

“Duh,” you reply. “Needed some sort of stress relief.”

“Most people just eat a bowl of cereal or something,” he says through a smile, his lips curling up in the corners.

You huff and roll your eyes, letting out a short and genuine laugh. “Whatever, you just can’t stay too long, ‘kay?”

“You got it,” he chuckles, rolling his eyes lightly.

Satori tucks his arm under his head, watching your ceiling fan as it spins in circles. He hates the ceiling in your room. You’ve got popcorn ceilings, something that Satori is particularly disdainful of. It’s why he likes having you over at his place, with its smooth and well painted walls. Plus, you can fuck as loud as you want and there’ll be no one there in the morning to hound you both over it.

You can’t stay for long.

He never really understood why you always tell him that. Even without it, Satori never really does.

—

Satori’s morning routine isn’t really a routine at all. On days where he has nothing to do, he rolls out of bed at whatever time he pleases. Sometimes that’s 12 in the afternoon and other times that’s 5:30 in the morning.

He tries his best to avoid early morning classes. Truthfully, he tries his best to avoid classes at all, but hey, when you’re getting a degree, that’s not really an option. Satori’s been relatively successful in that endeavor, keeping most of his class schedule well within the 11 am to 4 pm range, except for one pesky little discussion. Once a week, on Tuesdays, Satori has to drag himself out of bed and be in the classroom at 8 am sharp.

It’s not that he isn’t driven, or isn’t a morning person. Satori just isn’t a rules person, which doesn’t exactly function well within a societal structure. There are always rules. Ones that tell you when to cross the road, where to park your car, when to be somewhere or when not to be somewhere. The fact that he has to get up early on Tuesdays makes him needlessly resistant to getting up, even if he’s awake already.

Satori blinks away sleep in the quiet of his room. He’s woken up about fifteen minutes before his 6:50 alarm and now stares blankly at the ceiling with his arms tucked behind his head. What a drag, getting up like this and going immediately into the daily slog, not that anything can be done about it.

He inhales, preparing himself to sit up, before actually doing so. His muscles scream at him, sore with sleep and aching for a good stretch which he gladly obliges with a loud yawn. Cartoonish, almost. Satori laughs to himself as he pulls his body from the bed.

His room is messy. Clothes are strewn about haphazardly across the floor and various items that he’d picked up to mess around with are out of place. He exhales, shaking his head a little bit and telling himself that he’ll clean it when he gets back. It’s not that he minds the mess. In fact, Satori likes a little organized mess. Like what you and him are doing. That’s messy in the most delightful way. But right now, his room is a little too messy, verging on the precipice of dirty, which Satori hates.

He tosses on a soft, long-sleeved t-shirt. It’s the kind of shirt that he’s had for a long while, the ones that feel smooth on his skin. The fabric is so worn that it falls over him almost like tissue paper and he loves the feeling. His black jeans are hanging over the back of his desk chair and he grabs them quickly, shrugging them on over his hips with two quick steps and a pull. The ink on them is faded and though they started their life black, they are now almost a dark gray and look even lighter at the knees and backs of the thighs. He thinks he’ll have to get a new pair soon. Gray doesn’t look as nice with other colors as black does.

The sink in his bathroom is nearly empty, save for one single face wash, his toothbrush, and some toothpaste. He uses all of them in that order, hardly glancing up to look at himself in the mirror except to fix his scraggly long hair. He fiddles with it for a moment, running his fingers through minor tangles that worked themselves into his hair while he slept, before deciding that it looks good enough. The rest of it will sort itself out during the day and fall flat.

His dish is in the sink from the night before and he briefly loads it into the dishwasher and runs it, chiding himself mentally with an eye roll for not doing it the night before. There’s always a 50/50 chance in the morning that Satori has forgotten to run the dishwasher and it antagonizes him as much as anything can antagonize Satori, which really isn’t much.

There’s a black puffer jacket hanging by the door of his modest apartment. It’s a size too big for him, but it’s warm and looks nice on his figure, so he sees no use in telling his mother that she’d gotten the wrong size. It was a gift from her at the beginning of the winter season last year, along with a hat that Satori never wears. The jacket, at the very least, gets some use on account of it suiting his own personal style.

He’s grateful for it when he steps outside of his apartment, shrugging it closer to him as the familiar bite of winter rushes up and under his skin. The sun has only just risen and the world is cast in a familiar orange, pink, and purple glow that makes it feel like a painting. Satori doesn’t mind being out in the world when it’s still asleep. Especially not in the early morning hours just before the sun comes up, when the world is cast in blue as if it were covered in film. Today though, it’s late enough that the world is now wide awake and the bustle of it gives Satori a headache.

He passes businessmen on their way to work, girls in school uniforms rushing to make it through the gate of their school on time, their loafers smacking the floor with a delightful and intrusive clicking sound. His campus is only a few blocks away, around two corners and a straight shot until he hits the main building. He got lucky with his apartment’s location and sacrificed nice amenities for its proximity to his classes. The apartment itself may be crap, but Satori finds it worthwhile for how near it is to the things he cares about. That, and it doesn’t have popcorn ceilings, thank god.

The snow hasn’t stuck yet, which means that the sidewalk is damp with melting ice as the sun begins to warm the pavement beneath it. His shoes will get damp like this. The converse do little to repel the water, instead soaking it in like a sponge. He’s careful to avoid puddles, but should he hit one, Satori won’t dwell. They’ll dry at some point.

He can see the school up ahead. Satori isn’t really a fan of the building style. They’re stuffy and a bit reminiscent of the industrial buildings just outside of the Sendai city limits, but Tohoku University is a good school and Satori thinks it would have been a waste to not accept his admission. As the buildings grow closer, Satori can see the bodies of students wandering. Some talk in small groups and others, the more independent of them, walk hurriedly to their classes with heavy backpacks slung over both shoulders. Their backs curl forward a little, feeling the pressure of the weight.

Right through the quad, through the double doors, and up to the second floor. That’s the path Satori needs to take to get to his classroom, though he’s about 10 minutes early. He pauses just outside of the building, tilting his head to the side as he spots a familiar silhouette. A smile creeps onto his face, lips curling in the corners as he recognizes you.

You’re having a conversation with someone, though Satori can’t quite make out who exactly it is. They’re standing partially behind one of the trees, their broad figure concealed by the trunk of it. As he approaches, he recognizes the other person to be Bokuto Koutarou, one of the core members of the university’s volleyball team. What an odd pair to be seen together, and so early in the morning too. Then, Bokuto leans down and pecks you on the cheek and Satori is more confused than he’s been in a while. When did you get close? When did you start seeing him?

A pit forms in his stomach, though not the kind he’s familiar with. Messy, messy.

“Bokuto, huh?” he says as he approaches behind you, watching with you as the other man walks away. “When did you and him get so… close.” He drags out the last word, hissing out the S through a small smile.

“That,” you start, “is none of your business. It just sort of happened.”

Satori gives you a coy smile, tilting his head in your direction.

“Does he know?” He questions genuinely.

“Know what?”

“About us,” he croons, leaving no room for misinterpretation.

You give him a pointed glance, an eyebrow raised. He knows the look. It’s the one you give him when he’s said something stupid or far too obvious.

“We,” you emphasize, “are friends.”

“Oh yeah,” he nods, tucking his hands into his pockets and leaning back as he follows your step. “We’re really good friends. And we fuck for fun.”

You laugh. It’s a shrill laugh, and totally comfortable. He can’t see an ounce of tension in your shoulders and they’re relaxed in the way they usually are when the two of you speak. Satori looks down at you over the tops of his cheeks and a sly grin spreads across his face.

“Well,” you say, though it seems to not have any real purpose in your sentence. It’s almost like an admittance that he’s right, which he knows he is. “What does it matter if he knows, anyway? What’s there to know?”

Satori stops walking, his hands buried deep into his pockets. His head hangs forward and his jaw is open in faux confusion. The strain in his neck posing like this is worth the smile you give him, he thinks.

“That we fuck,” he states, saying it almost as if it’s a shock to him as well.

You stop to roll your eyes and Satori quite likes the way that the expression looks on you. Fed up, but pleasantly so. It gives your features a somewhat light, carefree sense. You look away from him for a moment, almost as if to accentuate just how nonsensical his manner of speaking is, before looking at his face and narrowing your eyes. You size him up and then give a small grin, almost mischievous in nature.

“He suspects,” you say. “But it doesn’t seem like he thinks too hard about it. I think he might if we were like… ex’s or romantically involved, but we’re not, so,” you shrug your shoulders. “Besides, it’s not serious enough for him to mind yet.”

“Yet?” Satori raises his eyebrows and gives you an incredulous smile.

Despite his demeanor, he feels something odd. It’s almost like his stomach is about to drop, and an unsettling feeling of dread begins to loom over him. You turn to look at him over your shoulder, impossibly pretty eyes giving him a very square look in the face.

“Yet,” you confirm, your tone a bit sharp as if to warn him that he’s stepping too close to the line.

He’s not sure what he’s done to warrant that kind of reaction. Satori thought that he’d come off rather disconnected, aloof in the way that your agreement is, but it’s entirely possible that he’d sounded insecure. He furrows his brows at you, almost like he’s confused himself, and then shrugs in a non committal way.

“Right,” he says, beginning to spin on his heel in an exaggerated manner. “Well, you have fun with Mr. Center-Of-Campus,” he smiles, continuing his sentence,” and I… will be going to my photography lab discussion.”

“You do that,” you laugh, putting up a hand to wave. “I’ll catch you later.”

“I’m sure you will,” he says, to which you respond by giving him a tired look and a shrug, like you’re admitting to the implication that you just can’t go without it. It being whatever the hell kind of sexual relationship exists between you two.

Neither he nor you turns behind to glance at the other. Satori starts off back in his original direction and you dip into the building next to his. He’s sure that if he looked, you’d have your fingers looped through the straps of your backpack, probably greeting someone or other that you know on campus.

You’re popular in a way that Satori isn’t. Truthfully, Satori is more notorious than liked and people know him for his strange, roundabout way of speaking and the knowing look in his eye. It doesn’t bother him to think that. He’s heard the way people talk about him, either directly from you or from walking up to a conversation a few moments too early. It doesn’t suit anyone to pretend that he doesn’t know and he doesn’t really mind knowing. It helps to weed out the people he wants to be around versus the people he doesn’t.

You, however, are very well liked. Sociable and blunt in your way of speaking. People like being around you, not just because you’re easy to look at, but because you’ve got a casual demeanor about yourself that makes people feel unjudged and at ease. It’s actually one of the first things that Satori had ever noticed about you, the way that you settle into a conversation as if you’d always been meant to be a part of it. No need to switch subjects or guide it to a more suitable position, you seem to blend effortlessly into social scenes, whether you notice it or not. Maybe it’s because you’re very true to yourself. You don’t recognize yourself as a perfect person and, as a result, you never hold the expectation that someone else should be perfect.

Satori thinks you’re like-minded in that way, though his interpretation of other people’s flaws is more rooted in his treatment by others. People are quick to judge and in all his years of being judged, Satori has just come to accept that that’s the way things are and he can’t blame humans for simply being human. Still though, he has the same idea that people’s flaws aren’t a reason for judgment. They just… exist and that’s fine.

He slides into a desk along the wall, quickly glancing around the room at the people who have already filed in. He’s only a few minutes early and most of his class are already in their seats with their cameras on their desk. Satori doesn’t know many people in this discussion and the majority of his class is either made up of girls that are too afraid to introduce themselves, or pretentious boys who spend too much time thinking about what tortured artists they are and too little time on the actual composition of their photos.

He wishes that Ushiwaka had been able to take this class with him. Satori had suggested that he try to enroll at the beginning of the spring semester, but with the class being an upper division, Ushiwaka didn’t have the previous coursework to be able to do it. Besides, Wakatoshi isn’t really in school for the classes, but rather because he’d been scouted by the campus’ volleyball team to play for them and Wakatoshi had gone because it was a good opportunity to get into the professional division. In that sense, Satori feels that he’s falling behind his friend. After all, Wakatoshi knows what he wants, but Satori only knows what he likes.

This class is pretty irritating. Not just because he has to get up and leave for it at the asscrack of dawn, but also because he feels that the discussions lack any real insight. Every week, they’re expected to upload their photos onto their computers and bring them to class, then, they spend the entire hour going around and discussing goals for the project and what could be improved with their current techniques. It would be useful if Satori didn’t find that so many people half-assed their photos the day before and then brought them in with some made up philosophy on why the snow in the crack of the sidewalk symbolizes their incessant need for human connection.

He doesn’t think this way because he’s innocent of half-assing. In fact, Satori half-asses a lot. Sometimes because he can’t be bothered and other times because he finds the work less valuable than something else he could be doing. Still, he likes taking pictures and this is a class centered entirely on developing a personal work portfolio. It’s easy for him to do the assignments because it’s essentially what he does in his free time anyway, so there are times when he feels that maybe these people just don’t care too much about school at all. That’s a fine thought to have, he thinks. Most artists think like that in some way or another.

Satori wonders if it’s the same in your major. Do literature students phone it in and do you find it irritating? He thinks you probably aren’t bothered by it if they do. It wouldn’t be in your nature to get worked up over the actions of others. You hardly even get worked up over your own actions and he thinks it would be weird to see you get in your head over someone else.

He sits through his class though, explaining the photo he’d taken of you in the early morning after you’d spent the whole evening talking and touching each other. Your face is obscured and your belly is pressed down against the mattress. It’s really only an off centered photo of your back, displaying the lovely curve of it against the crumpled white bed sheets and a bit of your hair. There may not be anything special about the photo to anyone else, but Satori remembers how badly he’d wanted to photograph you then.

Intimacy is pleasant to him in small doses. He likes to play pretend when it comes to loving and he’ll touch you like he loves you, let you touch him like you do, but Satori doesn’t ever think he’ll do it for real. At least not right now when he is so consumed by catching up to his peers in some arbitrary way. Still, the picture is a pleasant reminder to him that intimacy exists even in the most mundane of moments. Arguably, it is most present in them.

He doesn’t say all of this to his class though and someone describes the photo as almost pornographic, which he supposes that it is. It gives the impression of two people just after they’ve gone to bed together and he laughs to himself because that’s exactly what it is. Satori just shrugs his shoulders at the comment. That’s just about what your physical relationship to each other is, isn’t it? Almost pornographic in nature, indulging in each other the way lovers might without ever stopping to think if romantic love factors into the actions at all.

#tendou x reader #tendou satori x reader #bokuto x reader #bokuto kotaro x reader #tendou smut #yeah!!!#WOO HOO #i always get so nervous posting stuff #especially series #tries to be casual about it #tw: teasing #tw: mentions of pregnancy #tw: mentions of breeding #also i was inspired by bria and lily's rp w me for this so <333

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giannasturn · 4 days

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Something About You ｡.｡:∞♡* C.S

WARNINGS: Sex, alcohol, smoking, extreme fluff

SUMMARY: Based off the song “Something About You” by Eyedress, a cabin getaway with your boyfriend Chris Sturniolo, mostly all fluff !!

THIS IS MY WORK. Do not steal!!

A/N okay this is my first story ever, so please don’t judge. I hope u enjoy it and give me a follow if you wanna see more because I will be writing more!!

🎶 Hit the road, I’m taking off with you 🎶

Y/NS POV

The fresh spring trees bloomed as Chris drove us through the windy back roads of Vermont, Chris just got his license about a month ago, so safe to say he had to do a lot of begging for me to agree to let him drive us to our weekend getaway for just the two of us.

“Eyes without a face” by Billy Idol was playing on the radio, Chris likes rap music, but I’ve always preferred more chill and enjoyable music. I sing along to the song while staring at his eyes, “IM ALL OUT OF HOPEEE” Chris rolls his eyes. “ONE MORE BAD DREAMM COULD BRING A FALL” “I don’t understand why you don’t just wanna listen to my music” Chris says. “Because it doesn’t match the vibe at all Mr rap God” I say.

🎶 check me in, pop the champagne 🎶

We arrive at the cabin and see a white van parked on the curb with a big label that says “rental maids” “Wow what a specific name!” Chris says.

Chris opens my door and I step out of the car. One of the maids standing by the van smoking a cigarette says “need any help with luggage?” “No we are okay” Chris says. “But I could use a cig if you don’t mind” My eyes widen at his question to the nice lady. “Of course!” “I don’t mind at all sweet boy” the maid says while handing him a cigarette with a lighter.

Chris and I walk the long brick path to the entry way of the cabin, I can’t help but notice how perfect Chris looks with his fluffy hair covering the perfect amount of his four head, his rosy cheeks just a bit lighter then his plump lips that sit perfectly holding the cigarette in them. “Your unreal” I say. “What do you mean” Chris says. I just look at him and smile as his eyes return back to the door in front of us.

“Chris Sturniolo and Y/n Y/l/n?” A different maid inside the house asks us. “Yes.” Chris says. “Alright we just got done cleaning, contact us if you have any issues or need anything.” The maid adds as she walks out of the cabin.

As I walk towards the living area of the cabin I see a bottle of champagne sitting on a side table. “Omg Chris look they have champagne”. I say. “Don’t you think we could sue them for giving underage children champagne” Chris says. “First of all, we aren’t children.” “Second of all, it’s free champagne!!” I say.

Chris walks over and grabs the champagne out of my hand and pops it open. The bottle makes a very loud noise as I cling to his sweater. He pours the liquid into two clear glasses that he found in a random cabinet. “One for m’lady, one for me” he says while handing me a glass and keeping one to himself.

🎶 take off her clothes by the fireplace sexy, yeah🎶

We sit in the hot tub just gathering the view behind us. The sun sits perfectly above the mountains creating the most beautiful sunset view behind the hot tub located on the wrap around pourch attached to the cabin. “It’s starting to get cold” I say while shivering. “Well there’s a beautiful fireplace inside, let’s go” Chris says, making his way out of the hot tub.

He picks me up in one swift movement, carrying my wet body inside the house. He grabs two towels, wraps one around his waist, and wraps the other one around me. “Thank you” I say. “Of course” He says, laying a gentle kiss on my lips. “Mmm” I say, laying another gentle kiss on his lips.

The cute pecks we had exchanged each other quickly turned into a make-out sesh, which quickly led to my legs straddling his waist. “Can I take this off?” Chris asks, gently pulling at my bathing suit top. “Please” I say. He gently removes to the top, laying kisses and marking me all over my chest “so God damn beautiful my love” Chris says. His words go straight down to my core, where I’m clenching nothing.

He quickly turns us over, which has him laying on top of me. I grab on the silver chain hanging from his bare chest to grab him impossibly closer as we make-out.

🎶 she looks just like a dream, the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen 🎶

Chris’s pov

We lay naked in bed as my eyes go to the clock that reads “8:38 am” I turn over to see my beautiful girlfriend laying perfectly on her side of the California king, sun gleaming down on her face making her perfect features look even more perfect if that’s possible.

She opens her eyes only to see I was already looking at her. I tuck the pieces of hair that were in her face behind her ear with my hand and whisper in her ear “you are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.” Her eyes immediately light up and cheeks gain a pinkish tint. I pull her onto my chest and we both close our eyes and quickly go back into our slumber.

🎶 it’s so nice to wake up next to you 🎶

🎶 let’s start the day with breakfast in bed 🎶

I wake up, for the second time this morning, and the first thing I hear is y/n snoring. I giggle to myself and get out of bed gently, trying not to wake her up. I head out to the kitchen and start looking in the pantry. I grab pancake mix, and eggs since that’s the only breakfast items located in the cabin. I grab the best pan I could find and start preparing the breakfast.

With the smoke alarm almost going off 2 times, dishes and pancake mix everywhere on the counter. I finally finish preparing breakfast. I cut a strip of pancake into a smile, and put 2 over-easy eggs as eyes on the plate. I drizzle syrup over the plate, and start taking the breakfast back into the master room. “Y/N it’s time to wake up” I say while walking in the room only to see y/n already awake watching her phone. “I made breakfast babe” I say. “I know, I smelt burnt and was concerned then remembered you can’t cook” she says.

🎶 In the car cruising around with you 🎶

Y/NS POV

“Is that it?” I ask. “Yep” Chris says, loading the final suitcase into the trunk. He opens my door as I step into the car and put on my seatbelt. “I’m getting aux this time” Chris says, putting on the song “FE!N” by Travis Scott & Playboi Carti. “This is what you are for hot tubs, fireplace sex & champagne” Chris says. We both laugh as he starts driving home.

THE END…..

A/N okay this was my first story, and idk how the hell I did, it’s definitely not the best but I tried and I hope you guys enjoyed it a little at least. Love youuuu

TAGLIST!! ( comment if u wanna be added ! )

@bernardsbendystraws

#Spotify #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #fandom #fanfic #viralpost #something about you #music #y/n #christopher sturniolo

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altschmerzes · 9 months

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hey saw ur comment on the man city fix it fic ab Jamie’s fathers death & was wondering what u disliked ab the Jamie’s mum and Simon part? not judging or anything im just curious!!

yeaaaaaaah so! from what ive seen at least this is a not particularly common opinion which is fine, im aware i have some particular biases and priorities and whatnot in this area, but it just… i didnt like that stuff at all. it really put me off actually, for a couple reasons. i'll get into why, but i know a lot of people like Really Loved that stuff and especially his mom - and it also gets a little down on season 3 and the writing team as a whole at some points lmao - so i'll put it under a cut.

(this got. very long. im so sorry.)

it basically boils down to a couple things: 1. what they presented us with doesn't hold water if poked literally at all in any direction, 2. it made me feel a little uncomfortable given the way everything else in jamie's arc played out, and 3. if they were going to do something like this, they needed WAY more time and narrative space to execute it well in general and specifically for ME to execute it in a way that didn't leave a bad taste in my mouth.

there are a few things that i generally dread when you have a character who's presented to have some serious trauma related to their family and specifically to an abusive parent, and one of those things is the sudden inclusion of another parent in there who is just. everything is totally fine and normal and happy and not at all complicated with them! it always makes me feel weird and bad when that happens, especially when there is no explanation provided for how that like. fits in with the abuse we know they experienced as well. that is a matter of personal preference, and i can own that. i just don't like it, and it makes me feel weird and uneasy. and that's part of it here, but what's also part of it is that i think that - my personal feelings about this type of character choice overall aside - they did not execute it well given the story they'd already presented us with, the way they used these new characters, and how much time they spent on it.

the image they presented of jamie's mom and stepdad is like… very simple and positive and shiny and uncomplicated. it's just good. they just love and support him and are a positive and affectionate active presence. and that might seem like an unfair characterization of it because we saw very little and we know very little of what their relationship is actually like - we don't know what might be complicated, what might be messy, how often they talk, etc - but that’s honestly part of my issue here. we were given a sliver of a glimpse into jamie's mom and his relationship with her and his stepdad when jamie as a character is someone who is hugely defined by his family history and the baggage and trauma and danger associated with it. if they were going to do this, they needed to spend way more time on it. they needed to introduce her earlier, do something to make it jive with what we were already presented about her: some vague mentions, half of which were in past tense, and all of which seemed to imply very strongly that if she were alive (which there was a lot of confusion about!) then they were likely to some degree estranged, because it seemed pretty clear with the 'i don't know if she would be [proud] lately' bit that he literally did not know what she thought of him in recent years. and like. it seems like i'm nitpicking, but again, this is a character who has been so strongly based in and defined by his family and the like. past and current danger and trauma associated with it.

especially given how little time or attention was given to everything else with his family, it was just way too late in the game to introduce these characters and be able to do them and their relationship with the existing characters justice. like you’ve already got a complicated story you’re skipping most of and not giving its due do you really need to add more really complicated stuff in there. and then just go actually it's not complicated don't worry about it :) like. that just doesn't work for me.

so that's where i'm at like, not only do i inherently dislike this sort of element introduced with this type of character, which is a me problem, i also think the story they presented in that episode with his mom and simon just flat out didn't make sense and they did not have the time to make it make sense even if they'd tried, which they didn't. like... if things are just fine and normal and easy with them and she’s just great and loving and supportive it’s like i. So What Happened, Then.

it makes his entire arc make less sense. if she's just Been Here what happened? why did he need to be reminded that not EVERYONE in his life was out to get him? why did keeley have to tell him to stop battling everyone that was just trying to help him? why is he so isolated and adrift at the beginning of season two? why did she never attend a single match? why did we never see him text or call or mention her in a contemporary way? like there COULD be answers to those things that make sense with what they presented, but we didn't get any of those answers and those are big questions to me given they comprise like... all of jamie's character arc lmao. at the end of the day, throwing in the stuff with his mom feels... really disrespectful to the story they wrote with him (that they already fell down on the job with) to just throw that in there with no consideration or attention paid to how it fits with or impacts anything already established.

i truly don't think that every question needs to be answered in a story. i am not saying that. i'm not saying someone needed to turn to the audience and go here's the logistic details of exactly how and when everything that happened with jamie and his parents happened. but there are some serious issues with like, telling a coherent story, and utilizing the extremely limited narrative space that a secondary character in an ensemble show can be afforded. (especially when in season three it really felt like they were already racing through characters and plot lines and backstory stuff like the goal was to just drop info just to Have It and then never address or do anything with it at all.) why did they do that, is what i keep going back to. you're telling a story with very limited space and a lot of characters. so what was the reason for that stuff to be there? so that someone could lay the 'yea he was a dick but he made you into this person! you're so strong now!' foundation for ted telling jamie to forgive his dad and 'disappointed teacher face' him into saying 'thank you' after the 'fuck you'? or was it just fanservice that you didn't think needed to fit with the rest of the story narratively or thematically? because that's where i keep going back to as well.

it just... and this is the bitchier, more spiteful part of me saying this, the part that was PROFOUNDLY let down by the way they handled the aspects of jamie's arc to do with his family and with the abuse he suffered, but it feels like an attempt to use happy sparkly fanservice-y funny and feel-good scenes with his adorable mom and sweet stepdad to like. pull way back on the rest of his whole situation with his family like see no he’s fine! isn’t it great how funny and adorable his mom is! isnt his stepdad fun! everything is fine actually things with his dad are just ~complicated because james drinks :) (and then all he needs to do about that is grow up and forgive, he's just a melodramatic mama's boy, the pain is his fault and he'll be fine once he Forgives, and rehab fixes everything). i don't have some kind of conspiracy that this was their actual reasoning but that's how it hit to me - whoops we don't actually want to deal with the abuse so we're gonna sweep it way under the couch and look! see! here's his cute fun mom isn't she great! (He's Fine Don't Worry About It, His Family Is Actually Sooooo Supportive!)

but yeah that's the bitchy and unfair part of me so. that's not really my main point.

(i also gotta say everything about that sequence with jamie and company at his mom's house feels like... tissue paper thin and very fucking weird from both a narrative and a logistical point of view. the stuff with the actual people of his mom and stepdad aside, what the hell was up with his room? what was that poster of keeley doing there. when did that go up. how old was he when he put it there. yeah she's older than him by a fair bit but not THAT much older. and if he was putting it up as like, a teenager or something, why is the rest of that room decorated for a seven year old. parents preserve their kids rooms like shrines this is true but the idea of a like, jamie in his mid/late teens or whatever putting that poster of keeley up but also sleeping in a little kid's bed still is like... did you think about this at all. it really does not seem like you did. At All. it just goes to my spiteful fringe theory about that whole sequence which is “oh this is pure 100% gratuitous backpatting fanservice that nobody actually thought about in any real way whatsoever”)

sorry this got so long but i have a lot of thoughts on this and they get kicked up every time i see posts gushing about how much people loved georgie or those scenes or whatnot like everyone is of course entitled to their opinion and i don't hold it against anyone! but that stuff hit way different for me and just added insult to injury in an episode that generally seemed to handle jamie and his situation in a way i found cringeworthy and weird at best and offensive and victim blaming at worst.

#gav gab #gav answers #ted lasso spoilers #abuse cw #long post #augh. anyways. if you disagree with me on this you don't really need to tell me so i know most of the fandom like #loved that stuff #and please dont yell at me (general request)#just giving some thoughts as they were Asked For #and i appreciate you asking anon!! i like talking about my thoughts and opinions on stuff #even if it makes me nervous lmao

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genericpuff · 1 year

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Hey I’ve questions to the word “Infantilization” sense into thrown out there willy nilly (in my perspective) I want write/read webtoons and comics and im asking what something to watch out for in characters especially when age isn’t confirmed

Ouu, this is an interesting question/request!

So obviously I'm just one person and can't identify every sign of infantilization myself, I still find myself falling for stuff that was subliminally problematic (which is often the point of the people writing it LMAO) And of course the points I'm about to make, you may disagree with! So take this with grains of critical salt.

I'll try to keep it focused around Persephone and Hades as an example but note that a lot of what shows up between them shows up between other Webtoon couples as well (such as Sam and Charles!)

Identifying infantilization does take context. A lot of what I'm about to include as examples aren't inherently wrong on their own - many writers are legit just trying to write a "cute" character or spicy drama - but when put in conjunction with one another or dialed up to hyperbolic degrees, can absolutely play into subconscious and conscious infantilization of characters that can become easy to internalize especially for the younger audiences these types of works are marketed to.

So let's get on with it!

The character has traits that render them dysfunctional unless they have someone to guide them - and are often exaggerated for the "laughs" or to make them seem "cute". Take Sam from Let's Play, for example - she's got anxiety from previous health scares and asthma, which is amplified and viewed by others to the point of comparing her office booth to a "crib". Now, this does make for an interesting plot point wherein Sam's friends and family are actually enabling her lack of independence by shielding her (which is one thing I do like about Charles, that he pushes her to be more assertive and independent) but oftentimes Sam's lack of assertiveness and independence is played off as "cute" for the audience and their favorite ships when in fact, her character has some serious issues going on that stem back to her anxiety that dick can't solve.

But of course, characters like Charles take full advantage of that and are still offered as the "solution" to their problems.

The character is often pursued on the basis of "purity". Often times the characters themselves will call out how young/innocent they are, for better and for worse - and if it's to judge the main characters' preferences, the romance is still pursued in defiance of that, as if to "prove them wrong".

Think Persephone, a virgin Goddess of Spring, being pursued by Hades, a much older and more sexually experienced man who bases most of his relationships off sexual attraction, who she ends up working for in an office environment as his intern. Or Sam, who is both the daughter of the overprotective CEO and dating her own superior, Charles, who isn't looking for the kind of relationship she's looking for - he's in transactional sexual relationships, while she can barely look at porn or hold another boy's hand without freaking out. She's 22. Persephone is often drawn being objectified by Hades, while Sam has been drawn as the "sheep" in the relationships with the "big bad wolves" around her.

Now I know drawing a character 'small' or in absurd ways like this can be used for framing whenever the character feels small against someone else, but the extent it's done to with characters like Persephone and Sam is often under the guise of "framing" when it's more often blatant characterization. Sam rarely feels like she's actually growing as a person, she's assertive when the narrative needs her to be but regresses right back to being an "uwu baby" as soon as it's deemed funny enough to do so. Persephone never changes between the end of the trial and the events in S3, she still acts and is written and drawn like a teenager.

I know this is a hilarious example, but all I can think is when people call Persephone a "sweet cinnamon roll" or Sam a "precious Bunty". Sam and Persephone are both adult women. And even when Persephone was 19 people still defended her relationship with Hades because "she's legally an adult and can make her own choices!" But then Rachel will often her like, well... this.

The character is often "stuck" between their love interest and a parental figure. Again, this one on its own isn't the worst thing in the world as it's a very real conflict that happens in real life, but it's a common thread that comes up in the stories often criticized for infantilization because the relationships these characters are in aren't ideal in the first place and the parental conflict is used as a way to drive the romance and tension instead of actual romantic chemistry. Think those Lore Olympus banner reel ads featuring Persephone "trapped" between Hades and Demeter; or in Let's Play, Sam being "passed off" between her father and her superior who is the love interest.

These things would be fine if they were making some kind of point about marriage culture but they rarely ever are, it's usually only ever to resort to "haha overprotective parent bad!" (even when the MC is in a relationship they really shouldn't be in) or to serve as a punchline which ultimately just, again, objectifies and infantilizes the character as someone who can't function on their own without a man making the decisions for them.

When you take these spicy drama tropes out of the story - the overprotective parent, the boss/employee relationship, etc. - there's really nothing going on in these relationships that's all that interesting. It's just two horny people trying not to be horny for each other.

The other people the character depends on are typically in higher positions of power than them but often hide it under the guise of "romance". Often times this makes the character directly subservient to the love interest. These power differences often serve as the driving factor in the romance itself rather than any actual chemistry. Hades, Charles, sound familiar?

I know I've talked about LO and Let's Play a lot on this topic but it's literally just because of how egregiously similar they are, Let's Play may as well just be Lore Olympus but with real people (esp when you consider how little the "god" element matters in LO when it comes right down to it). And they're both series that are flagship titles, at the forefront of the romance genre which is one of the most widely read genres in webtoons/webcomics. The fact that two of the highest earning webtoons both push this kind of infantilization in their comics that are pushed on a young audience... it's not great. Even if it were an adult audience it would still be problematic, like I'll give kudos to mongie, she left when she knew WT wasn't the right platform for her work, but I don't know if I'd still enjoy Let's Play off WT either because it's still just a mess of a comic. Still stronger than LO - at least the main character spends a decent amount of time having a life outside of their love interests - but I don't know if being better than LO is really a compliment at this point.

And outside of webtoons, I read A Touch of Darkness recently after being told by people that it's "much better than LO" but y'all it SUCKED. It's shitty p0rn with a shitty plot and Persephone is just as lacking in brain cells in A Touch of Darkness as she is in Lore Olympus.

It's ironic how a comic that claims to be a "deconstruction" of purity culture really feeds right back into it anyways because the creator seems to be a product of purity culture and male gaze media who hasn't actually addressed it or unpacked it.

Anyways, I think that's all for now? If I think of anything else I'll def reblog and add more but I thiiiink that covers the majority of the points that typically come to mind whenever I'm reading stories like this. It's definitely one of those "once you start seeing it you can't unsee it" things that even female writers like Rachel and mongie aren't immune to writing.

#ask me anything #ama #lo critical #lore olympus critical #anti lore olympus

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