Tumgik
#but also just so much has changed since then as well
paper-mario-wiki · 19 hours
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transfems can be women but you are not, you're an agp
(i actually blocked the original person who sent this and then resent it to myself on anon to keep the presentation fitting since i would like to share my perspective on this anyhow. here's what i would have said to this straw-man argument-haver if they weren't already blocked!)
TL;DR: you're wrong with both of the things you asserted in your statement. 1) i am not an AGP which is because 2) AGP's are exactly as much of a woman as i am.
what meaningful categorization could you put on someone to fit the description of "autogynophile" that precludes them from womanhood without inherently being contradictorily transphobic? "it turns them on to think about being vaginally penetrated" yeah i bet a lot of cishet woman fantasize about that too. "they only changed their identity because they like being a lady so much it helps them get off" okay? and? this is not a categorization which is inherently predatory, so who cares? gender is, irrevocably, an invention. it's a farce. it's nothing, we made it up, that's the whole point of agreeing that people can change it if they say they want to.
drawing a social line by the physical distinctions of "do they have penis or the other one" is as arbitrary as separating people by right handedness and left handedness or the eye color they were born with. the social expectations, behaviors, and woes are a consequence of the fact that everyone has been taught "this is just how it is, and it makes you different in every way, and this is how it's always been, and this is how it'll always be", same as the way people keep using fiat currencies (the US dollar for example), despite them being backed up by no singular tangible thing in any way that matters, aside from the word of the person who controls it.
and sometimes going along with that stuff is fine! i mean not the money, but the other one. the gender one. i like to be called a woman, while also knowing that "woman" is an invention. "pretty" is also an invention, and i love to be called that. "sonic the hedgehog" is an invention that people talk about using the same verbiage they use when describing real, tangible, breathing creatures, despite the fact that sonic the hedgehog exists conceptually and not physically (not including physical representations, which are not the same thing).
i think agp's are also women. if i could read someone's mind and they said "hi im a woman" but i knew they were thinking "im actually a man" i would still say "hello woman" because they might as well have given me their name for all the difference it makes in how we interact moving forward. if someone has no intention or probability to harm themselves or anyone else, i couldn't care less.
all that being said, you're wrong with both of the things you asserted in your statement. 1) i am not an AGP because 2) AGP are exactly as much of a woman as i am. it is a meaningless category coined by bigots and only given credibility by people with bigoted views.
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sincerelyyuu · 21 hours
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"in the end, it's still you." p3.
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ synopsis: after you made your decision to leave your jujutsu sorcerer life behind, you find yourself longing for what once was and risking more than what you bargained for. ➼ pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader, geto suguru x fem!reader ➼ content/warnings: sfw, endless amounts of angst, sprinkles of fluff, heavy jujutsu kaisen 0 film spoilers, heartbreak, regret, unrequited love, death, blood, pet names, sorcerer!reader ➼ wc: 5.4K words ➼ a/n: this is the final part of this little angst series of mine. thank you so much to everyone for the amount of love you've given these three. as always, likes and reblogs are appreciated ♡ ➼ part one, part two, part three
Today was the day.  Suguru had coined it as the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons where he intended on releasing thousands of curses across Japan, focusing the epicenters of the attack in Shinjuku and Kyoto.
To say that your life had drastically changed over the last few years would be an understatement. Finding refuge in a grand temple located far away from the eyes of Tokyo, Suguru built himself a cult following. He spent his days collecting money from his loyal followers while also exorcising curses from non-sorcerers who sought him out, deeming him as a god for his “cleansing” talents.
Within this time, your days were simpler. Instead of waking up to the dread of having to fight curse after curse, you spent your time focusing on the little things that brought you joy. You started a little garden that was lush with a variety of flowers and greenery. Thanks to the seclusion of your new home, it made stargazing look something straight out of a fantasy, the night sky always twinkling with millions of stars. With all the extra time, you had many opportunities to curl up with a good book without having to worry about another mission.
Since that fateful night in the village, Nanako and Mimiko became attached to your hip. You became the mother figure they’ve always dreamt of. You loved the girls like your own, spending the majority of your time nurturing them from toddlerhood into the beautiful teens they were now. You were living the simple life you envisioned back in your teen years. 
You knew when you left your old life behind that life would be different. Change was inevitable. You just didn’t expect for it to manifest in the man you ran away with.
Suguru took care of you exceptionally well. He made sure you were well fed and gifted you with the prettiest clothes, occasionally leaving small tokens of appreciation for you for embarking on this journey with him. Whatever you heart desired, it was in your hands no sooner than you can think of it. More importantly, no matter how busy he was, he always found time to keep you company. You, as well as the twins, remained his main priority. His beautiful girls.
You watched Suguru slowly become consumed with the idea of jujutsu sorcerers being the superior race. On the outside, he put up an amiable persona in front of normal humans who came to him for guidance in order to collect their curses. On the inside, he loathed their very existence, finding their presence alone to be unbearable and swearing they filled the air surrounding him with a disgusting stench. 
Monkeys, he would call them. You hated the term. 
He had come to you in the kitchen one day with the biggest grin on his face. It was the happiest you’ve ever seen him in your entire time of knowing him. Pouring yourself a glass of water from the faucet, you leaned your back against the edge of the sink in interest.
“The time has finally come!” he proclaimed as he walked up to you, hands behind his head in a relaxed manner.
“Oh?” you raised an eyebrow at him in curiosity. “And what time may that be?”
“My sources tell me that there is an interesting first year student by the name of Okkotsu Yuta at Tokyo High. He is cursed by a special grade spirit by the name of Orimoto Rika,” Suguru goes on to explain.
You felt an unsettling feeling in your stomach, not liking where this conversation was going. You hummed in response and raised the glass to your lips which he took as his cue to go on.
“I plan on retrieving her. The power she holds is the exact thing we need to put an end to every non-sorcerer in existence,” he sighed happily at what he believed was the light at the end of the tunnel.
Frowning, you replied, “...And how exactly do you plan to do that, Sugu?”
“By killing anyone that gets in my way starting with Tokyo Jujutsu High.”
The glass of water immediately slipped from your hands, seconds away from shattering onto the floor if not for Suguru’s incredible reflexes. Placing the still full cup on the counter, he observed the immense shock displayed in your eyes at his declaration. You wished that he was just pulling your leg and that he wasn’t really considering taking on such a risky and incredibly dangerous task. But a man of his word, you knew better than anyone that when Suguru said anything, he truly meant it.
“Geto Suguru,” his name leaving your lips in a slow drawl, “What in the actual fuck are you talking about?”
Leaning against the counter next to you, he crossed his arms and closed his eyes in thought. “It’s simple really. I will unleash the thousands of curses that I’ve meticulously collected over this past decade into the city. Two cities, in fact. While they send their forces to try and save as many pathetic monkeys as they can, I’ll go after the Okkotsu boy. If he decides not to join our side, that’s fine. I’ll just kill him for Rika instead.”
The more you listened to him explain in detail his plan, the more you found yourself looking at a complete stranger. This couldn’t possibly be the kind Suguru that you’ve known throughout your teens and entire twenties. 
Had you really known him at all?
The incredulous look of concern and flash of fear across your face must have been hard to take in because Suguru’s demeanor immediately took on a more serious stance. 
“(y/n),” he started to say your name and reached for your hand. This time, it was his turn to be shocked when you immediately yanked your hand away from his as if his touch burned you. 
“Don’t,” you demand, taking a step away from him as you felt your blood begin to boil. “What the hell, Suguru?”
The man sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose at your hostile reaction, “I had a feeling you’d react like this.”
You scoffed at his reply, “Did you honestly expect for me to just be peachy about this idea? You’re talking about murdering millions of people! This isn’t what I agreed to when I decided to go on the run with you.”
“I was very upfront with you about my goals. I don’t know why you’re acting like this is something new,” Suguru argued, not liking the tone of your voice. “You made the big girl decision to come with me. Don’t tell me you’re regretting it now?”
You clenched your jaw at his audacity. “You didn’t give me a choice! I’m not the one who decided to go on a murderous killing spree at seventeen on a mission we were both assigned to,” you retorted in exasperation.
“But I stayed with you because I care about you, Suguru. If I didn’t, why would I leave my entire life behind to be here with you now?” you asked, feeling the anger in your veins shift to deep hurt. “You forget that I sacrificed a lot, too. Excuse me if I don’t agree with every choice you make along the way, especially this one.”
Running his hand through his dark locks, Suguru exhaled deeply. He rarely fought with you and he hated every minute you were anything less than happy with him. He angled his body to face you once more and placed his strong hands on your shoulders. When you didn’t instantly pull away from him, he tugged you closer to him and wrapped his arms around your shoulders.
“I’m sorry. I didn't forget how much you’ve sacrificed to be with me and I’m eternally grateful every day I see your face. I know this situation hasn’t been completely fair for you and I only have myself to blame for that,” he apologized sincerely.
“That being said, I’ve made my final decision. I won’t ask you to fight on the front lines nor do I expect you to do anything you don’t want to. You can stay here without needing to get involved or lift a finger. The decision is yours.”
Back to the present, you couldn’t shake the premonition that something really bad was going to happen. Your anxiety in your heart refused to dissipate with the uncertainty of what's to come looming over you. You hated this. You hated how this is what it all came down to. 
You made it clear to Suguru that you weren’t going to take any innocent lives. However, you refused to sit still and play the waiting game while everyone was out fighting for their lives. Naturally, you set your heart on protecting your girls.
“Nanako, Mimiko,” you said to your phone via video chat, “Are you girls doing okay?”
“Everything is good so far, (y/n)-sama,” Nanako replied back and adjusted her phone so that she and her sister fit into one frame. “Where are you? Geto-sama said you’d be here.”
You responded, “I’m here. Just standing out of sight but still keeping an eye on you.”
Standing atop of some miscellaneous office building, you observed the large curse that housed the twins safely inside its mouth. You focused on manipulating your cursed energy to lower it to extreme minute levels in order to hide your presence, blending it with the large amount of cursed energy permeating in the air. Doing so made it difficult to pinpoint your exact location. 
“How come you aren’t here directly with us?” Mimiko questioned, feeling slightly anxious but relieved to see your face even if it was through a screen.
You paused, taking a few seconds to think before answering carefully, “It’s complicated.”
How do you exactly tell them that the reason you were hiding to begin with was because you were hiding from the man of the hour?
Gojo Satoru.
You would be lying if you said a part of you didn’t long to see him. You did everything in your power to cut all ties with the strongest sorcerer a decade ago, although it hurt more than anything. You didn’t know if you could ever face him again, especially not now considering the circumstances with Suguru’s plot. 
Did he even want to see you?
A pair of sweet voices called out to you and snapped you out of your thoughts. Looking back at your phone, you saw the looks of anticipation on the twins’ faces.
“Sorry, what did you girls say?” you sheepishly asked.
Nanako pouted adorably, repeating their question, “We asked if we could go to that crepe shop on Takeshita Street with you. Geto-sama promised he’d take us last time but it was closed by the time we got there.”
Chuckling, you nodded to their request. “Of course. When this is all over, we’ll take a girls trip together.”
“Promise?” they said in unison, holding their pinkies up to the screen.
You held your own pinky up and lightly tapped it against your phone. “I promise.”
On the other end, you heard Nanako’s notification sound go off. “They said they’re stepping up the plan and telling us to engage,” she informed you.
Biting your lip in apprehension, you sighed. “Please be careful, you two. Do not hesitate to call me immediately if something happens. Do you understand? I'll catch up with you in a few.”
The pair nodded, holding up their pinkies for emphasis promising you of their safety. Just as you were about to hang up the call, their soft voices caught your ears.
“(y/n)-sama?”
“Yes, my loves?” you answered with concern in your eyes watching them fidget nervously.
“I love you.”
You felt your heart squeeze at the declaration, warmth spreading in your chest as you smiled fondly at the two. They looked at you shyly with pink cheeks looking slightly embarrassed after voicing their affection together. When did they grow up so fast from the little five year olds they once were when you first met them?
“I love you, too. Both of you. See you soon,” you reciprocated, blowing a kiss to the camera.
The twins mirrored the gesture before hanging up. Focusing your eyes back to the curse they were inside, its mouth opened to reveal your precious girls. You waved goodbye to them despite them not being able to see you. Just as you were about to trail them, that unsettling feeling increased tenfold in your stomach. Something was wrong. 
Suguru.
You dialed his number on your phone, pressing it to your ear only for the call to go straight to voicemail. This only made your anxiety worse. He never missed a call from you. Wracking your brain on where he could be, his previous words echoed in your mind.
“I’ll go after the Okkotsu boy. If he decides not to join our side, that’s fine. I’ll just kill him for Rika instead.”
Cursing under your breath, your legs began moving on their own.
Run faster.
You repeated the two words in your head like a mantra as you weaved through alleyways and every shortcut you could remember. Your lungs burned with the intensity of it demanding oxygen, but you refused to slow down the pace of your sprint. You were determined to make it back to Tokyo Jujutsu High.
You had to make it to Suguru.
Scanning the black veil that you knew Suguru had casted over the school, you managed to locate a hole that was made by something, or rather someone, else. Slipping through the opening, you finally stepped foot onto the grounds that you once called your home. You hurriedly followed the trails of blood and wreckage of what looked to be the after effects of a lethal fight. 
You nearly collapsed as you felt the ground quake beneath your feet, the force of it catching you off guard. The air felt electrified with the sheer amount of cursed energy surrounding you. It terrified you. Despite your fear, you steeled yourself and ran towards where you felt the cursed energy was strongest. 
Careening around another corner, you were relieved to see the backside of the man you were searching for. However, your relief was short-lived when you looked just beyond his figure down the path to see a young teenage boy. 
There was no mistaking him as Okkotsu Yuta with his special grade curse Rika suspended beside him protectively and looking every bit as deadly as you heard. He was exchanging words with her that you couldn’t hear from where you stood. You saw the way Yuta  intimately held her monstrous frame close to his face. The interaction was so full of tenderness and devotion, the kind that would risk it all in the name of love.
But that’s when you realized what was happening. He was sacrificing himself to Rika to release the limit on her cursed energy.
Hearing Rika passionately declare her love for Yuta, you looked in horror as she began gathering all of her raw cursed energy in full force. Flashes of purple and pink coalesced into one massive deadly black orb, a symbol of Rika’s eternal love for him.
And it was aimed directly at Suguru.
“SUGURU!”
You didn’t even hear yourself scream for him, your voice coming out in terror-stricken screech. It was like your body went into overdrive. In your moment of panic, you didn’t have time to think or feel, only running towards him with your heart beating loudly in your ears. 
For Suguru, it all happened so quickly. 
The moment he heard your voice, he whipped his head to you with eyes widened in alarm. You weren’t supposed to be here. He needed to figure out a way to get you as far away as possible from Rika. 
Time almost stopped for the next few seconds.
There was a flash and a strong hand that shoved Suguru’s body back from where he was positioned. A waft of a familiar perfume. The feeling of soft tresses tickling his cheek. A blinding blue glow. He realized too late that it was you moving at an supersonic speed to stand in front of him, safeguarding him as you channeled all of your cursed energy to brace and harden your body for impact.
Then, Rika charged.
Destruction. Suguru’s curses were no match to the power of Rika’s concentrated cursed energy beam. Her attack left devastation in its wake, buildings blown down to their bare infrastructures, dust and debris clouding the pinkened sky, and a deep crater of the battlefield permanently indented into the ground.
For a moment, all you felt was searing pain enveloping your body. You didn’t even register the way Suguru seized you by the waist, jerking you away as he made a narrow escape with you just a second away from death’s door. Your vision faded to black as you closed your eyes.
When you next opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was the back of Suguru’s head. He was carrying you on his back, your arms around his neck and your body swaying in small jerky motions as he limped down the pathway with growing difficulty.
Good. He had made it, you thought to yourself in ease.
‘Made it’ was an understatement. The man was officially missing his entire right arm, the same arm he used to safely pull you away from Rika. Long black hair haphazardly let down, black yukata torn in half to reveal his bare toned torso, right eye swollen shut. He was lucky to have gotten away with just this. 
He was only this lucky because of you. You had taken Rika’s attack head on. Even with you using your cursed energy as a shield, it wasn’t enough to stop the negative repercussions. Your injuries were severe. The strength of Rika’s blow left a gaping hole in the center of your chest a hair’s away from your heart, feeling sharp pains with every shallow breath you took. You could feel yourself bleeding out onto Suguru’s back, soaking his robe with crimson. Unable to feel any sensations in your legs, you suspected you were paralyzed from the waist down. 
“Suguru,” your raspy voice croaked out.
“You finally opened those eyes, pretty girl. You had me worried for a moment there,” Suguru chuckled quietly.
The two of you fell into a calm silence, only the sounds of Suguru’s footsteps and your ragged breathing to be heard. You wanted to ask him so many questions. Where did Yuta and Rika go? What happens now? No matter how hard you tried to focus on moving your mouth you simply couldn’t, not having the strength to do so. Suguru was the first to break the silence.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” he said tiredly. His haggard face looked absolutely spent with his voice coming out no louder than a murmur. Only loud enough just for you to hear the regret and guilt in his speech.
You chuckled weakly, “Can you really say you were surprised?”
Suguru sighed in defeat, “I suppose not. Although I would have preferred if you had stayed with our girls. Now look at you.”
“That’s not very ‘Thank you for saving my life’ of you, Sugu,” you huffed, gently pinching his cheek in retaliation causing him to laugh lightly.
You felt your heart swell seeing Suguru smile and banter with you so freely. It reminded you of your earlier days back in high school when it was just you, him, and Satoru.
Satoru.
As you leaned your head on Suguru’s good shoulder, your mind drifted to the snowy haired man. It always did. You often wondered if he had changed much since you last saw him. Was he still that confident man that would give his all for the world? The same man that would have burned the world for you? What would your life be like if you had decided to go back to him that day in Shinjuku? So many questions that you would never have answers for. You knew that when you left Satoru that day, you had left your heart with him too. 
If only you had the chance to tell him you loved him in person.
Feeling something rise in your chest, you were only able to squeeze Suguru’s shoulder in warning before you leaned to the side to vomit blood, the bodily fluid coming out in a viscous consistency. By the time you were done, you felt extremely weak. Your head felt fuzzy and the severe pain in your chest was beginning to subside the more you bled out. 
“I’m dying, Suguru.”
Suguru’s grip on you faltered for a quick second before hoisting you upright on his back once more. He already knew it. He knew you were dying by the faraway look in your eyes and the way you could barely keep them open. You were losing too much blood too quickly. He had exhausted his cursed energy supply on Rika, only having the physical energy to carry you through pure willpower.
“Do you regret running away with me now?” he asks solemnly, slowing his pace down to not rock you too much.
You shook your head, “I don’t. I promised you that I would be there for you until the end.”
“Thank you for keeping your promise,” he expressed genuinely.
When you didn’t say anything else, he turned his head slightly to see you with your eyes closed. He momentarily panicked before he was consoled by the rise and fall of your back that indicated you were still here.
“(y/n)?” he calls, looking straight ahead and walking with no real destination in mind. You hummed in response to let him know you were listening.
“I love you.”
Despite living the last ten years of his life with you, this was the first time he had verbally expressed those three words to you, opting to show his affections for you through actions. But in your dying moments, he needed you to hear just how much he loved you, even if he knew you would never say them back the same way he meant it.
“I know. I always knew,” You smiled guiltily. “I do love you, Suguru. You’re always going to be my best friend. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t reciprocate your feelings no matter how hard I tried.”
Suguru nudged his head against yours in a comforting manner. He whispered, “It’s okay. I still love you regardless.”
Feeling exhaustion settle in your bones, you could barely fight the growing heaviness of your eye lids and a sense of calm lulling your senses. Resting your chin on Suguru’s shoulder, he felt your faint breath fan against his neck.
“Sugu,” the nickname sounding so painfully loving on your lips, “I’m sleepy.”
Suguru couldn’t bring himself to watch you die, staring straight ahead so you wouldn’t see the tears pooling in his eyes.
“Sleep, baby. I got you.”
With that, your eyes closed as you took your last breath, your arms around his neck slipping to fall at his sides.
Trudging down the narrow alleyway, Suguru shifted your frame to his front in order to rest your head against his hard chest. Your body was still warm as Suguru held you tighter against him, albeit a bit awkwardly considering the effects of the battle left him with only one arm. You looked so peaceful. If anyone didn’t know any better, they would have assumed you were just in a deep sleep. Only, you were forever in a dream that you would never wake up from. 
Suguru felt like a failure. Despite his elaborate plan, he was unsuccessful in securing the special grade curse Rika from Okkotsu Yuta. Experiencing her power first hand, she was truly extraordinary. If he had gotten her, there would be no need to sneak around swallowing curses. He would have had the power to change the world like he wanted.
You wouldn’t have had to die for him.
If only he had a little more time. Hearing footsteps approaching him, Suguru smiled at the familiar presence. With great effort, Suguru carefully lowered you and himself against the wall and held you close.
“You’re late, Satoru,” he announced, his words devoid of any real malice. “To think you’d be the one here at my end. Is my family safe?
“Every last one of them managed to escape,” the special grade sorcerer replied in monotone.
Except you. Satoru took in your lifeless form that was brutally beaten and bloodied by what he assumed was the aftermath of Rika. Your hair was longer than when he last saw you in Shinjuku ten years ago. Your delicate hands that used to hold onto his so dearly were now battered. Bruises adorned your face, crimson from your wounds beginning to dry against your skin.  Even after all these years of not seeing you, even in this state, you were still beautiful to him.
“Unlike you, I’m a kind man. You sent those two assuming I’d defeat them, didn’t you? To set Okkotsu off?” Suguru questioned the male, referring to the panda and cursed speech user.
Satoru answered, “I trusted that a man as principled as you wouldn’t kill off young sorcerers without a reason.”
Suguru tiredly smiled at his words. “Trust, huh? I didn’t think I still had any of that left.”
Gaze hardening, Satoru coldly responded, “I also trusted you to keep her safe.”
He knew he was being hypocritical. He spent years trying to seek you out and to bring you home. Once he did, he even considered quitting the sorcerer life to give you the normal life you wanted. Yet you didn’t want to be found and made it incredibly difficult to track you (and naturally Suguru.) The fact you survived this far to begin with was with Suguru’s help, which is more than what he had done. At least Suguru was able to give you some form of happiness. Although he never gave up looking for you, Satoru knew he should have done more to protect you. 
And now he has to live with the fact that he couldn’t bring you back home anymore.
“It was always you, you know that?”
Tearing his eyes away from your lifeless form, Satoru wordlessly looked at his best friend who had a ghost of a smile on his lips.
“All of these years away, there wasn’t a day that she didn’t think about you. No matter how hard I tried to get her to reciprocate my love, to open her heart to me, her heart was always set on you,” Suguru admitted bittersweetly.
Satoru could only stand there stunned at the revelation. If Suguru was telling the truth, had you always loved him the way he loved you? Flashbacks of you played back in his mind like an old movie. 
The way you would tenderly treat his wounds after he went a little too hard after a mission…
“I swear to god, Toru, you better not come back looking like this again,” you sighed, lightly dabbing the soaked cotton ball of antibiotic on the small gash on his forehead.
“You mean looking this good~?” he smirks, flexing his bicep proudly. Only for his bottom lip to jut out into a pout at the way you playfully roll your eyes at him, not exactly denying his words but also not wanting to feed that big ego of his.
Turning around to grab a clean bandage for his wound, he misses the way a light pink hue blooms across your cheeks.
…making him a bento box of his favorite foods after scolding him for skipping meals…
“Oh?” Satoru chirps, “What do we have here?”
He watched you unravel the prettily wrapped package to reveal the lunch you had prepared for him. Based on the smell alone, he knew you had made his favorite. “A little birdie told me you skipped breakfast this morning,” you sighed.
“Did this birdie happen to be a six foot three tall man with a man bun? What a snitch,” he sighed dramatically.
Tsking, you pushed the bento closer to him. “Don’t be mean. Eat before the food gets cold or else the last hour and a half of me cooking would go to waste.”
Didn’t you just come back from a mission this morning? The thought crossed his mind as he considered how tired you must be but still mustered the energy to cook for him. The delusional side of him imagined if this was what it would be like if you were his pretty little wife.
Grinning, he takes a bite of the food and savors the delicious flavor that hits his taste buds. “Thank you, sweets.”
…and leaving little cute messages in his notebooks to read during class.
Hearing his sensei drone on about something related to cursed energy, Satoru leaned back in his chair with his head tilted back in a silent groan. He swore this boring class had a higher chance of killing him than dealing with a special grade curse. Feeling someone kick his shoe from under his desk, Satoru looked over next to him to see Suguru giving him a disapproving look, gesturing with a nod to the sensei to pay attention. Satoru merely stuck his tongue out at him causing his best friend to roll his eyes. To be fair, he was equally as bored but someone had to pay attention to take notes, right?
Leaning on his hand, he aimlessly flicked through the pages of his notebook, the pages mostly bare since he rarely took notes. Satoru’s interest quirked when his eyes landed on an adorable doodle of a kitty cat wearing black round glasses much like the ones he wore. Beside it was a little speech bubble written in your handwriting that said, “You got this, Toru! I’ll always be here to support you ^o^.”
Chuckling, Satoru turned his head to find you sitting a few desks away from him. Unlike him, you were completely engrossed in the lesson and taking notes like the good student you were. You had your hair tucked behind your ear as you gnawed on your lower lip in concentration. All Satoru could think was… ‘pretty.’
Feeling eyes on the back of your head, you scanned your surroundings before making direct eye contact with Satoru. Despite being caught red handed staring at you, Satoru shot you a flirty wink, snickering at the way you gaped at him in shock. He made a gesture of him pretending to be on the verge of falling asleep, feeling his heart palpitate at the way you couldn’t help but giggle at him.
The next class, he found another doodle in his notebook of that same little Gojo kitty along with the words, “All eyes up front instead of me, Mr. Gojo >.<.”
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. How could he have been so blind? 
Or, maybe, he did see all of the signs. Perhaps he chose to actively ignore them because he knew getting involved with you would only put you in danger. He was okay with admiring you from a distance if it meant keeping you safe.
But if he knew things would end up this way, he wished he spent all this time telling you he loved you instead.
“Do you have any last words?” Satoru offered, feeling his heart aching at what was next to come.
Looking to the sky in resignation, a peaceful look graced Suguru’s face. “I never held any hatred for those in Jujutsu High. I just couldn’t wear a heartfelt smile in this world.”
“But she made it worthwhile,” he continued, his voice lowering in remorse as he studied your tranquil face, ingraining every little detail that he loved about you in his mind. “I don’t regret taking her with me. My only regret is not being able to give her the life she deserved.”
Suguru cradled your face in his hand and leaned down to kiss your forehead tenderly, his lips lingering on your skin for the last time. He didn’t react when he heard heavy footsteps draw near.
Satoru brought himself closer to the two people he cherished most in his life. Crouching down so that he was eye level, he reached out to brush the hair away from your lids, wishing so desperately for you to open them so that he could look into those eyes that he first fell in love with. Just as Suguru did, he pressed his lips to your temple, feeling a tear slip from his eye.
Goodbye, my sweet girl. To the only girl I will ever love.
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🏷️: @urcutetozier @sad-darksoul @alisoncdariel @paprikaquinn @jjk174
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fallenhunnyapple · 24 hours
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Sketchy doodles for another AU. Details + a bonus in under the cut
An Angel Lucifer appears in Heaven. No one knows why he's there or how he got there, but it doesn't seem as though the Lucifer in Hell has been replaced, this is just a whole second Lucifer. His memories only seem to go so far as the early days of Eden. Days where he was friends with the First Humans but before he had developed any sort of relationship or even real feelings for Lilith.
Adam, sort of shaken but also sort of Eager to reconnect with his first friend and the more pleasant memories of Eden, advocates to let him Stay. This Lucifer hasn't done anything, he doesn't even know about the Tree of Knowledge and it's not like Eden exists anymore for him to try it anyway. Lucifer is granted the ability to live in Heaven, but Adam will have to be responsible for him. Adam agrees and now has to watch over a Naive and Friendly Lucifer.
Lute is Less than Thrilled. She doesn't like that Lucifer is always around and she doesn't Trust him, even if Adam seems to. She does eventually warm up to him, but given her personality it doesn't really seem like she does. But Lucifer notices and he considers her a good friend. He ends up spending time with just her without Adam (she's basically angelsitting because Adam had other things to do) and they bond a bit and she's willing to accept that he's Not the Devil and that he's no more threatening than most non-exorcist Angels.
And once Heaven determines the same, he's tasked with Working with Emily to maintain the Happiness of Heaven's residents. Emily keeps an eye on him, but mostly they are both very positive personalities that play off each other well and they become fast friends. The first time he spent the day with Emily was the day of the first Extermination since Lucifer got there. Someone had to watch him while Lute and Adam were away. He doesn't know about the Exterminations (Most of Heaven doesn't so it's no surprise), and he doesn't even know about Hell. It was deemed... For the Best if he was kept in the dark about that. No one knows how he came to be and they don't want to risk anything happening because he finds out about the other version of him.
Lucifer is Very In Love with Adam. It wasn't immediately or anything. At first he was just really happy to have his best friend back, especially when everything was so different from how he remembered it, it'd been thousands of years after all. But he spent most of his time with Adam and anyone could tell you that Adam was less of a crass asshole with Lucifer around. Not by much, but enough to be noticeable. And over that time, Lucifer still saw a lot of who Adam was in Eden but also came to appreciate who he was (No one understands why)
It took a while before Adam was comfortable enough to take off his helmet around Lucifer. Sure he knew his human face, but he'd definitely changed over the years and his insecurities about his face were made Worse when Lucifer only knew him at his Best. Lucifer finally got to see him maskless one night when Adam let him see him before bed. And Lucifer was super smitten. Yes his face was Different, but not in a way Lucifer thought was bad. Adam definitely looked Older and Tired, but he thought it was Endearing instead of put off. After that he would sometimes watch Adam sleep-
Adam for his part is in emotional turmoil. Yes, he was in Love with Lucifer in the Garden. But completely against his better Judgement, his feelings have evolved and he's in love with the King of Hell. He's reluctant to think about Angel Lucifer that way because he represents a simpler and more innocent time and he doesn't want to corrupt that with new feelings.
Lucifer eventually confides in Lute about his feelings and she tells him that 1) Adam isn't into men and 2) He doesn't do committed relationships. It won't end well for him if he tells Adam. Lucifer is hurt but appreciates her honesty. He decides to tell him anyway because it's getting hard to keep it all to himself when he's around him everyday.
Well, the confession goes about the way Lute said it would. Adam tells him he doesn't like dudes and he doesn't hold it against him because who wouldn't want a piece of him? But they're still friends, that won't change. Lucifer already braced for it and it hurts but he accepts that answer. The only thing is, now that its out in the open, his friendly nature is So Much Easier to read as him pining and him being in love. So Adam has to just deal with Lucifer's love being thrown at him every day. The behavior hasn't changed Too Much, but his understanding of it has. But other people of Heaven definitely Know. Its so obvious to them that Lucifer is in Love with Adam. Some people criticize Adam for leading Lucifer along and bad mouth him. Lucifer doesn't like hearing anyone talk poorly about his best friend and will chastise and scold them.
It's finally when some winner/angel tells Lucifer he should get Adam flowers (as a joke, they think it would be funny because Adam doesn't have an ounce of Romance in his whole body) that things change. Lucifer does get him flowers! And he gives them to him when they're alone and Adam has removed his helmet. This is the first time Lucifer has been Proactive about his feelings and Adam doesn't have the cover of his Mask to hide his true reactions, so he can't deny how the gesture affects him. He was really only ever able to keep himself in check about his feelings for Lucifer because Lucifer wasn't Doing anything different. He wasn't Pursuing him. But now? Now he can't deny it anymore. Lucifer asks for a kiss and he gets it.
Bonus:
As an Angel, Lucifer didn't know or understand much about sex. It was meant for Reproduction and Angels reproduce asexually so he had no interest in it. It was a thing for the creatures of Earth to have, not Angels. So he has No Idea it's a recreational thing and despite the fact that he knows Adam and Lute fuck around regularly, he just Really doesn't understand why and they don't explain it either. So after Lucifer and Adam are together, Lucifer wants to understand Better and discovers the fact that it is, in fact, something that can be done Recreationally and its supposed to Feel Good. So, of course, he wants to experience that with his new Boyfriend. Let him learn what all the fuss is about~
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alastor-simp · 22 hours
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Enchanting Lullaby - Insomniac Alastor x Sea Siren Reader
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❥Summary: Everyone in the hotel knows that Alastor does not sleep, but what happens when he seeks you out and makes a request only you can provide for him.
❥Tags: Alastor x reader, sea siren, siren reader, insomniac, insomniac alastor, alastor does not sleep, fem reader
❥Notes: I am OBSESSED with siren songs. I find them so hypnotic and beautiful, so I wanted to write a story with a siren reader with Alastor. Wanted to give a shoutout to my friend ValerieWinks777 for helping me with this story. I recommend checking her out on Wattpad, she does amazing Alastor x reader stories.
Spending years in hell, forming unbreakable deals and ripping apart demons in his broadcasts have harden Alastor to put aside certain feelings and tasks, including sleep. Well, he used to sleep during the time when he was alive, honestly he is surprised he even could after all the horrible murders he committed. He didn't just decide one day that he wasn't going to slumber anymore, this change started slowly. Indulging gleefully in the wrath he enjoyed created new enemies, enemies he knew posed no threat, but the longer that list got, the less often he slept, as he rather stay awake and attack them head on if any of them even considered wanting to mess with the radio demon.
A couple days after the extermination war and rebuilding the hotel, it had gotten surprisingly more busy with new demons arriving to gander at the hotel, and possibly consider joining. Charlie had been working like a mad women, tending to make sure everything was perfect for the guests and also trying to lessen some of the workload on the others. She greatly appreciate everything that happened before, so she didn't want them lifting a finger with anything. Alastor, however, was not one to just stand there and not offer his assistance. He may still consider the hotel a bunch of wack-a-doo nonsense, but he has grown fond of Charlie and her beliefs, also considering how much of a gentleman he was, he wasn't going to let poor Charlie do everything herself. Charlie waved her hands in the air, saying profusely that it was okay and Alastor didn't need to help, but Alastor was persistent. "Ah ah ah. Charlie, my dear. As the facility manager of the hotel, it is substantial for me to offer my assistance. Now then! What humble tasks need to be dealt with?" Alastor said with a smile, as he bent down, putting his face closer to Charlie's. Charlie gave a sigh and small smile back to Alastor and told him of the assignments that needed to be done for today.
Alastor went about and began completing each task, stockpiling the drinks for the bar, making sure the rooms were all spick and span, obtain groceries for the kitchen and also prepare dinner for later tonight. Alastor had finally reach the end of the tasks and softly heaved a sigh. Performing small things like this was nothing to him, as he preferred to finish the job quickly and properly and not dwindle on it, but he had used a great amount of his powers to fulfill each one of them, causing him to feel more drained then usual. Alastor, for the first time, felt the need to take a good due rest, but he knew it wasn't going to be easy since it has been a millennium since he last slept. Pondering through his thoughts, he came up with an idea that could help him, as he made his way upstairs.
Knocking on your door, Alastor patiently waited, as the door to your room opened, with you standing on the other side of it, wearing your cozy pajamas. You looked up at Alastor with a smile, head tilted to the side. "Oh good evening, Al. Is there something you needed?" Alastor smiled down at you, showcasing more of his teeth. "Yes, my dear! I have encountered a bit of a dilemma and I need your assistance with the matter. Would it be alright if you could come to my chambers?" He observed your eyes glaze with confusion before you nodded your head, and walked out of your room, closing the door behind you. Alastor had hooked his arm with yours, as the both of you walked towards his hotel room.
Upon entering his room, you glanced around his room, admiring the pocket dimension he had created. It gave a calm tranquil vibe in the room, along with the static music playing from the radio in his room. Al had said nothing when the both of you had entered his chambers, and you wondered if he was displeased with something. "Um.... Am I in trouble?" You question him, twiddling your fingers together. Alastor quickly turned back around to face you, eyes widen before going back to normal, while a soft smile was placed on his face. "Heavens no! You are no form of trouble my dear, I can assure you. There is just something I need from you however." He walk closer into his room, removing his coat jacket and setting it on the chair next to his desk, revealing his red striped shirt that was hidden. He ventured closer to his bed, removing his black shoes before taking a seat on it while crossing his legs. His eyes went back up to look at you, extending his hand out, inviting you to join him.
Your face flushed for a bit, as you made your way over to where Alastor resided, taking a seat on his bed, facing him. The both of you sat in silence, before Alastor broke it. "If my memory serves me correctly, your demon form is similar to that of a sea siren. Am I correct, my dear?" He turned to face you, peering down at you while you looked at him. Your answer to his question was a small nod. "Splendid! That will be quite useful for me!" Alastor seemed almost giddy with joy, making you feel a bit confused. "Can I ask a question?" You asked Alastor. Alastor continued to stare at you, telling you to go ahead. "Why is my nature going to be beneficial for you?" Alastor eyes gazed into yours, as they were filled with confusion. Heaving a sigh, Alastor slowly grabbed your hand, giving it a soft squeeze. "As much as it pains me to say this, but I need your help, darling. I am aware of the soothing hypnotic voices of sirens, how there gorgeous songs allure sailors. I am asking you if you could sing for me, my dear." Alastor smile almost dropped a bit, his face holding a slight melancholic look as he continued to stare at you. You continued to look at him, before you asked him why you needed to sing to him.
Alastor heaved another sigh, rubbing his hair with his other hand. "It has been a drastically long time, since I have enjoyed the comforts of my own bed. However, falling asleep has not been an easy task for me, and along with the chores that I have completed for sweet Charlie. I crave a good rest now more then ever." Upon observing his face, you noticed the dark circles that appeared underneath his eyes. His smile as well seemed a bit forced, almost as if he was having a hard time keeping it up. Your heart ached for him, as you placed you squeezed his hand that was still holding yours. "I will help you Alastor, but there is something you have to do for me." Alastor raised an eyebrow at you, asking what it was that you needed. "Well, could you use your powers to soundproof the room? My siren voice may reach the others, and cause them to fall asleep as well." SNAP! Within an instant, Alastor had snapped his fingers, preventing any sound from reaching out the room.
With a nod of your head, you moved further back on the bed, waiting to make room for your transformation. A dark light enveloped your form, as your body became covered in black and white scales, and your legs had morphed together into a long mermaid tail, causing your pajama pants to slide off. Alastor continued to gaze at you in amazement, finding your form truly haunting while incredibly beautiful. Once you had completed your transformation, you leaned back against the pillow, raising both your hands up towards Alastor. Alastor stood stiff, confused at your actions. "Come here." you said, keeping your arms stretched out. Alastor realized what you meant, his cheeks become a tad flushed. "M-my dear, there is no need-" His words were cut off, as you pulled him down. His head had landed on your chest, as his whole body was placed on top of you, with his legs rested on your lower tail. Your arms wrapped around him, placing one against his hair, giving it a rub. "Shh its alright Alastor. I just want you to be comfortable okay?" Alastor hadn't moved when he was on top of you, apparently not use to actions like this. His body soon began to relax, as he nuzzled closer into your chest, moving his arms to wrap them around your back. His actions caused a soft smile to appear on your face, as you continued to play with his hair. "I'm going to start singing now, are you ready?" You looked down, waiting for his answer. Alastor peaked one of his eyes out from your chest, giving you a small nod. Giggling at his cuteness, you moved the hand from his hand to rub at his cheek, before placing it back on his red locks.
Taking a few deep breaths, you leaned your head back against the pillow. Soon, you opened your mouth, and began to sing.
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(THIS SONG IS SO SOOTHING, I LOVE IT!!)
𝄞 Upon one summer's morning, I carefully did stray
Down by the Walls of Wapping, where I met a sailor gay
Conversing with a bouncing lass, who seemed to be in pain
Saying William, when you go, I fear you will never return again
My heart is pierced by Cupid
I disdain all glittering gold
There is nothing can console me
But my jolly sailor bold
His hair it hangs in ringlets, his eye as black as coal
My happiness attend him wherever he may go
From Tower Hill to Blackwell, I'll wander, weep and moan
All for my jolly sailor, until he sails home
My heart is pierced by Cupid
I disdain all glittering gold
There is nothing can console me
But my jolly sailor bold
My name it is Maria, a merchant's daughter fair
And I have left my parents and three thousands pounds a year
Come all you pretty fair maids, whoever you may be
Who love a jolly sailor that ploughs the raging sea
While up aloft in storm, from me his absence mourn
And firmly pray, arrive the day, he's never more to roam
My heart is pierced by Cupid
I disdain all glittering gold
There is nothing can console me
But my jolly sailor bold
My heart is pierced by Cupid
I disdain all glittering gold
There is nothing can console me
But my jolly sailor bold 𝄞
Your beautiful song had ended, leaving the room in a calming silence. Looking down, you motioned your head to look at Alastor. His head was still nuzzled on your chest, the one eye that had peaked to look at you had closed. His breathing was slowed and he was letting out small static-like snores and a few purrs. Smiling warmly, you leaned closer to his head, giving it a soft kiss. Your hand left his head, and began to reach for the blanket nearby on the bed, motioning it to have it lay over both you and Alastor. You placed your hand back on his hair, giving it a comforting rub, as you leaned back against the pillow, whispering, "Good night Alastor."
Tag List:
@alastorsgoldie @91062854-ka , @delectableworm , @iiotic
@cookiekyo , @demoarah , @danveration , @beebsbea ,
@veethewriter , @forbidden-sunlight , @pinkcrystal44 , @luujjvi ,
@unholycheesesnack , @saturnhas82moons , @jyoongim ,
@aceofcards0-0 , @ghostdoodlen , @yourdoorisunlocked ,
@starshipcookie , @ainsliemac , @aria-tempest , @nobuharashinyao
, @sweet06tart , @blakedbeanss , @ihyperfixatedagain , @ktssstuff ,
@yakultt-art , @mooniee123 , @nightmarenaya , @darischerry ,
@sadnessiscoldtea , @alastorssimp , @imacollasaltitan ,
@dilucragnvindr-my-beloved , @batmanmonstarr , @felice-jaganshi ,
@justchillaine , @crazed-flower , @ohmylovewhereartthou-blog ,
@akiooshizuka , @lokis-imaginary-friend ,
@themysteriousslenderman , @huntlowfan , @futureittomainn ,
@christinaatyourservice92 , , @just-trash-yeah-thats-it ,
@angelinevalentine89 , @yunimimii , @staryosh1 ,
@mihawksdemoness , @crystalreads , @blahblahbruhmeow ,
@madam-strawberryrose , @inkslayer , @azazel-nyx , @lixanjewel ,
@artemisandhunters , @thereeallink , @ask-theradio-demon ,
@lousypotatoes
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bluecollarmcandtf · 2 days
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Cash Slave, reporting in...
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Good morning, master. State Trooper Hernandez reporting!
I hope you're doing well since the last time we saw each other. Again, I can't apologize enough for pulling you over on the highway. I had no idea you were such an amazing hypnotist. Thank you again for letting me get off easy and only making me taze myself twice! I was paralyzed in that muddy ditch for awhile, but you could've given me a helluva worse punishment!
Your instructions aren't negotiable, so I made sure to snap a photo before I started my shift today. As you suggested, I've been eating a box of donuts every morning, and I've packed on a hefty 30 lbs since I've started. My wife has complained, but I know you want me to look more like a cliche of law enforcement!
I'll stop by your house to drop off my paycheck tonight after work. I won't forget to pick up some pizza for you and your friends on the way: extra sausage, just like you said!
See you tonight, master!
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Hello sir.
It's been a week since you came into my shop, and I've followed everything you said. I didn't agree with it at first, but you convinced me with that little pendant.
You were right! I really am beneath powerful men like you. Filthy blue-collar workers aren't worthy to lick the dirt off your shoes. You were right to point that out, and you were right to tell me to embrace it. When the world looks at me, they shouldn't see a man. They should see a grease monkey at the bottom of society.
That's why I haven't showered or changed in seven days. My BO is uncomfortable to work in, but I know it's just a reminder of what I am. I used to be proud of my job. Ha! I used to look down on suits like you, but I'm nothing in comparison; just a tool at your disposal.
Anyways, I cleaned and waxed your old car as fast as I could. I know I lent you my convertible, but you're welcome to keep it. I put a lot of sweat and blood in fixing her up, but like you said, fancy cars are meant for you to drive and me to maintain.
Stop back in my garage anytime. White-collar men like you get free service here! It's not the place of any lowly laborer to get in the way of what you want.
Thank you again, sir.
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Hello boss.
Just started another long day of window washing! It's another hot one, but I'll keep my head down and sweat through it like usual.
I've gotta say, it's days like this that make me miss the comforts of my old corporate desk job. I'd kill for some AC right now, but I remember how much you made me realize I hated that career. Like you said, I'm much better suited to a life of mindless cleaning.
It turns out you're the real one with a knack for business strategy because all of your advice has been genius! The income is dependent on the hours I put in, and since I'm working for half the price of all competitors, I've gotten a monopoly on the market! I've fully booked all seven days for the next five or so weeks, so I'll be washing windows non-stop!
The business is already booming! I've been billing customers to your bank account, so you should already see all the profit in there!
Later today, I'll make a note of the minimum I need to replenish the cleaning supplies I'm running through. I'd also be grateful if you loaned me a bit for personal use, but it's understandable if you can't spare any! We agreed that I wasn't working for a salary, and I'm fine with that! I've been sleeping in the company van the last few weeks and it's more than good enough for me!
Don't worry, boss. I'll get back to work!
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Tell my wife hello for me, master!
Working on a rig has been isolating. The job is brutal, the days are long, and every night I head back to our bunks covered in oil. I thought I'd at least get to bond with the other guys, but most of us are too tired to do anything but eat and sleep after our shift.
The only thing that's getting me through it is thinking about you. I know I also have a girl at home, but you were the one that gave my life purpose. I was never going to make money as an actor, and you helped me see that! You were the one that convinced me to go for this ridiculous job in the middle of the ocean, and now I'm making a ton of money!
You deserve it all.
I wouldn't have seen any of this cash if I hadn't stuck around after your stage hypnosis show. I still remember the wild look in your eyes when you came up with this idea for me. I also remember that hungry look you had when you saw my wife. It was impossible to say no.
Oh, and thanks for keeping my wife company while I'm gone. A man like you deserves her attention more than I do. Like you said, I doubt I was pleasing her to begin with. The only thing I'm good for is earning money, and I hope you're enjoying it because it sure isn't easy to earn!
I gotta get back, but I wanted to let you know that I signed up for another six months like you suggested. It's lonely, but I'm happy to do it, master!
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Son, or should I still call you 'sir'?
I'm not sure if I your new title applies through text as well? Being your dad and your servant can be a bit confusing, but I don't mean disrespect you! Just let me know.
My workout is done and I'm headed back to your house. I signed the deed over to you this morning, so you officially own it now! Like usual, I'll clean the place from top to bottom. I've got all the mops and cleaning supplies in my van and ready to go. Since it's Friday, I'll start on the weekly yard work; mowing, weeding, etc... I don't want to bore you with the details, but it'll take the majority of the day to keep your place in tip top shape!
As I understand it, you are having friends over tonight, so I'll prepare a three course meal for eight. I ironed my apron this morning so I should look like a more presentable waiter than last night when I served your food!
As always, please let me know if there's any other way I can be of service today or tonight.
I'll be awaiting your return, sir.
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Hey little bro,
I just finished my workout at the gym with dad. We're both hitting PRs and we're really starting to see some results! Still can't believe you hypnotized his dumb ass to think he's your butler! That man looks so stupid changing from gym clothes into a bowtie and gloves. He's constantly calling you 'sir' too, even when you're not around.
He's such an idiot.
Anyways, I'm all dressed and ready for my new job. You were totally right. I'm going to be so much happier as a clown instead of a wrestler. I'm about to head out to my first gig; a ten year old's birthday party. I think he's the kid of someone I used to compete with. It might be a little awkward, but it won't affect my routine. I've got an afternoon of pies in the face and self-deprecating humor ahead of me.
I made sure to tell the guy who hired me that I'm willing to stay after and clean up. Kids make a huge mess after all. I just hope he won't be too weird about me being a clown at his son's party. We may have been rivals in the past, but that was back when I wrestled. Now I'm just a joke for hire. He's technically my boss for the day, so I'll have to get used to taking orders from him.
Wish me luck, bro. I'll give you the money after the dad dismisses me. Let's hope I make a good clown!
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everscorner · 2 days
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Something In The Way You Move | The Redemption
Author’s note: I struggled writing this next instalment, and there was a lot of chopping and changing, so apologies for the late update. There’s one final part after this, and the plan is to have it out by mid-May. In terms of their apartment, this is how I pictured it but feel free to switch it up. This is only for fictional purposes only, but please don’t copy my work without my permission. Enjoy 🤎
Warnings: angst, fluff, suggestive/implied smut, bad language, couple reconciling, side chick confrontation, some relationship issues, minors DNI (let me know if I missed anything)
famous!Reader x Jude Bellingham Word count: 8k words
///
‘So, Bestie,’ Winnie starts, ‘what’s the plan? And how are we going to pull this off?’
That’s a good question: how will you break the big news to Jude? It’s been five torturous days since the positive pregnancy test and you’re yet to tell him about it. The timing just hasn’t been right, and the next bit’ll sound silly, but you’ve kept this from him because you don’t want to take the attention from him. 
His first season at Real Madrid has exceeded all your wildest expectations, and you just wanted him to celebrate it all without detracting from it with the baby news. 
Girlfriend of the Year, right?
‘To be honest, Wins, I haven’t thought about it.’ 
You’re standing in the kitchen waiting for the water in the kettle to boil and Winnie’s in the living room, her limbs stretched out on the sectional as she mindlessly browses through one of the coffee table books. 
Your best friend’s in town for work, and earlier today, she actually filmed a couple of scenes with you for the show, and that’s when you told her about the pregnancy. 
Off camera, of course. However, looking back at the moment, you regret not filming it. 
Between filming your scenes, you quietly pulled Winnie to the side and showed her the sonogram you now carry around in your bag, and her reaction was exactly what you expected it to be and more. There was squealing, excited jumping, and there were lots and lots of tears shed between the two of you. 
‘Okay, well, when do you plan to tell him?’
Tonight. You think enough time has passed and yesterday, you went to your first doctor’s appointment and confirmed that you were indeed pregnant, but despite your excitement, you kept the news from Jude because you wanted the announcement to be well thought out—special.
Also, there has been so much distance between you, you’re hoping that the baby news could be the catalyst to bring you two together because you kinda miss being close to him. 
‘I’ll be honest with you, Y/N/N, that doesn’t give us much time to plan it.’ 
Winnie makes a good point, but you’re not looking for perfection, all that matters is that he knows. 
‘Well,’ the kettle boils and you walk over to where it sits on the counter to grab it, ‘it depends on what we decide on.’
You start pouring the boiling liquid into the cups.
‘My only request is that we incorporate the sonogram.’ 
‘Wouldn’t it be cute if we could find a pair of infant football boots?’ 
It’s kinda cheesy—very cheesy, actually—but you like the idea. A lot. 
‘Yeah, that’s a good idea. We’re getting somewhere with this.’
It’s almost hard to believe that you’re standing here, plotting out a way to tell Jude that you’re expecting. 
If someone had come up to you the night you first met him and told you that in two years, you’d be standing in the kitchen of your shared apartment in Madrid, planning a pregnancy reveal, you would’ve called them a liar. 
Excuse your French, but. . . ‘Holy fuck, Wins, I’m pregnant.’ 
It’s like it’s hitting you for the first time. 
Winnie laughs, amused by your sudden realisation. ‘I can’t explain it, right? But it feels like a teen pregnancy.’ 
There’s no need for her to explain it further ‘cause you know exactly what she means. When you first saw the positive pregnancy test—you know, after your initial shock—you first panicked about how your family would react to the news. 
You had to take a moment to stop and remind yourself that even though you’re still so young, you’re more than capable of raising this child. 
With Jude’s assistance, of course.
‘Do you want to record it?’
‘Record what?’ 
You take the steaming mugs from the island and make your way over to the living room, where you place them onto the coffee table. 
‘The moment you tell him. Not for Netflix,’ she clarifies, ‘but you know, home videos or whatever.’ 
Yeah, you’re definitely keeping this one in the family. Maybe if the show gets renewed for a second season. . . but you’re jumping the gun. 
‘I want to, but’ you look around the ostentatiously decorated main living space ‘where can we put the camera? I don’t want him to see it.’ 
‘We’ll figure it out.’ 
Winnie’s composure is just what you need right now. You can always count on her to be calm in stressful situations. 
‘Is your camera charged?’
You’ll have to check. It’s been some time since you last used it. Part of your job is that you’re a part time YouTuber, it’s something you dabble in because you like filming and editing. . . all that jazz, but lately, your channel has taken the backseat. 
Why vlog this period of your life when they can catch it on Netflix when the show comes out? 
‘Come,’ Winnie shifts to make space for you on the couch. 
You take your seat next to her and by the time you settle, she’s already got her phone out, with her Pinterest open. 
‘What’s that for?’
‘Well, something’s got to inspire us.’ 
Duh. It must be the pregnancy fog. 
‘Don’t worry,’ she assures. ‘We’ve got this.’
And got this you do. A half hour and two cold teas later, there’s a plan, but this plan requires you to leave the house. 
Booooo! 
You’re not too keen on the impromptu outing, but there are baby football boots to be bought, and at least you’ll have Winnie there with you. 
‘Well, that was easy.’
You beg to differ, but whatever. 
Winnie locks her phone and sets it on the couch, ‘When’s The Boy coming home?’
You’re not sure when it started, but Winnie now refers to Jude as “The Boy” which you find to be endearing. 
Probably late. He’s out with Toby and Noah, and he mentioned something about his other teammates joining them, but you weren’t really paying attention. 
‘I’m not sure.’ 
And it’s not something you wish to discuss further because the thought fills you with dread. It’s been days since your discovery but given the circumstances, there has been no time to sit down and talk about Coralie. 
The result of that is that whenever he goes out—and he’s been going out plenty to celebrate his victorious season—you can’t help but feel anxious that he might cheat on you again. 
Surely this is no way to live. 
‘But it doesn’t matter, does it?’ you rise off of the couch and start for the bedroom. 
Naturally, Winnie’s trailing after you and you just know that this conversation is far from over. She’s persistent. 
‘It doesn’t, but I think you should ask him.’ 
She makes it sound so simple. And you guess it is simple, he is your boyfriend after all, it’s your privilege to call or text him whenever and wherever. 
‘We don’t want any surprises.’
You don’t, but if he does walk into something he’s not supposed to walk into, that’s all on him. 
‘I don’t think it’s necessary, really.’
Inside the walk-in closet, you start stripping out of your house sweats to change into something appropriate. Once upon a time, you could leave your house in your house clothes without the fear of being pasted on the MailOnline and labelled “dowdy” and “unkempt”.
But that was a long time ago.  
‘Oooh, what’s this?’
Winnie finds herself distracted by the Chloé box that’s sitting on the closet island. 
‘Oh, yeah, that’s a PR box they sent me on Monday,’ you state matter-of-factly. 
She opens it and gasps when she sees what’s inside the large box. 
‘What the. . .’ 
‘It’s crazy, right?’ 
She turns to you in utter disbelief. ‘They gifted these to you?’ 
You hum.
She grunts and confesses, ‘I’m so jealous of you right now.’ 
Twelve full sized perfumes, all gifted to you by the brand. 
You tell her to take a bottle, and of course, she’s over the moon. And it earns you the title of World’s Best Best Friend. 
‘Well, I still think you should text him,’ she states as she tests the different scents. 
And here you thought she had forgotten about that. 
‘Just so we have an idea.’ 
You don’t really want to send the text, but you don’t want to raise any alarms with your friend. Lately, things between you and Jude have been far from perfect, but you’d prefer to keep your relationship problems from the world—even if it’s Winnie and she’s your best friend. 
‘Yeah, alright.’ 
Your phone’s in the living room, so you have to leave the closet to grab it, and when you come back, Winnie’s discovered your new Chanel handbag—a gift from Jude. 
‘He bought this for you?’ 
‘Yeah,’ but you’re not trying to make a big deal of it. 
Jude bought the bag for you about a month ago. At the time, it seemed so random—his urge to buy such an expensive gift on a whim—, but after seeing those text messages, you know it was the guilt that made him do it. 
‘Lucky bitch.’
‘I’ve been telling you to bag yourself a baller,’ you tease as you take your seat on one of the ottomans. 
You: Hey, when are you coming back tonight?
You read over the text to make sure you’re not coming off as desperate. . . a nag. But whatever, the text needs to be sent, and the way he interprets it is up to him. 
He doesn’t immediately respond, but you don’t expect him to. He never does when he’s out. 
You take a final look in the mirror. You look so good, it’s almost hard to believe that the look was put together in ten minutes. And you’d take a picture to post on your story, but there’s no time for that now. 
‘You ready, Wins?’ 
She smiles, ‘Ready.’ 
‘Alright then, let’s go.’ 
///
When he did finally respond to your text, Jude said that he’d try to be home by midnight, which gave you more than enough time to prepare for the reveal. 
For her visit, Winnie will be staying at the apartment with you, but she’s gone out because she’s not pregnant and she’s actually got a life. However, she did help you set everything up for the reveal, which you appreciated because she came with all the good ideas. 
Like she suggested that you do it in your closet as opposed to the kitchen, where you had initially planned to do it, because the lighting and acoustics were better. 
And now it’s a little past eleven o’clock and you’re rewatching an old episode of your favourite series. Earlier in the night—after Winnie left—you filmed a night time routine vlog for your TikTok, which you should be working on editing, but can’t be bothered about.
Waiting for Jude to come home has reduced you to a ball of anxiety, and despite your eyelids getting heavier and heavier with each passing minute, you simply can’t make yourself fall asleep. However, one thing’s certain, no pregnancy reveal will be done tonight. 
Damn him, and damn your feelings for him.
You can’t believe he’s once again ditched you for his friends this week. It’s disrespectful at this point, but the worst part? 
You keep allowing him to get away with it. 
But what can you do, leave him? As if that’s an option for you. The love you feel for him runs so deep, you can’t bring yourself to imagine a life without him in it, especially with the baby coming. So apologies to all the feminists of the world, but your love for this man surpasses all reasoning. 
Your phone dings with a notification and you quickly grab it, hoping to find a text from him—you’ll take an incoherent drunken text at this point, anything—but instead it’s Winnie asking if he’s home yet. 
Fuck. 
You: Not yet, but soon :) 
You hope. 
She’ll never confront you about it, but you think that Winnie suspects that things aren’t good between you and Jude. The lack of calls and texts throughout the day was a dead giveaway. The two of you can’t get enough of each other, and even when you’re apart, you’re constantly updating each other one way or another so the silence was deafening.
But whatever, right? 
People across the world experience relationship problems every day. You’re not the first couple to experience this, and you’re certainly not the last. You just wish that your relationship problems weren’t because he stepped out on you. 
‘Babe?’ 
And now your mind’s playing tricks on you, because you swear you can hear him–
‘Y/N?’
Oh shit, he’s home!
You quickly reach for your phone to check the time: 11:26.
Fuck! 
In the last text you sent him almost an hour ago now, you gave him strict instructions to text you before he left the club. 
Guess he didn’t catch that text. 
‘Baby?’ he calls for you again, but his voice sounds distant, so you figure you have enough time to do what it is that you have to do.  
But you’ve got to move fast, so you clamber off of the bed, and scurry to your closet. You head straight to the camera, which you’ve carefully propped on your Louis Vuitton jewellery box, and switch it on to start recording. 
This probably isn’t the best of angles, but so long as it captures his reaction, hopefully with his face in the frame. 
‘Baaaaybeeee?’ 
His voice sounds closer now. 
‘In the closet, babe,’ you finally call back, then internally brace yourself for what’s to follow. 
With Jude, the plan was always to get married and have children, but the when was never discussed in detail. 
‘Why are you hiding in here?’ 
Some of that anxiety leaves your body at the sight of him. He’s beaming at you, so visibly happy to see you. 
‘Hiya.’
This man has seen you in all kinds of vulnerable situations, why are you so shy all of a sudden? 
As he closes the distance between you, you notice that his eyes are kinda red and glossy, the only sign of his intoxication. When he reaches you, his smile widens—if that’s even possible—and he leans forward to connect your foreheads. 
‘Hi, gorgeous.’ 
He smells of mint with the faint scent of alcohol, and a smell you can only describe as Jude on a night out. 
With your eyes shut, you deeply inhale the comforting scent, happy to have him back home. 
‘Hey, why are you hiding in here?’ he asks again, his words running into each other, the second sign. 
‘Uh, ‘cause.’
You weren’t anticipating that question, and you don’t know how to answer it. 
‘“‘Cause?”’ he chuckles. 
You hum.
‘Come here,’ he envelops you in his large and strong arms, practically suffocating you but you can’t bring yourself to tell him to release you because you’ve missed his affection and the intimacy.
You fear you’re starting to sound like a broken record. 
‘How was it?’
‘How was what?’
‘The club?’
‘Fine.’ 
And that’s all he’s willing to offer.
‘I thought you said Winnie was staying over?’ 
She is, she’s just gone to a party with the new guy she’s seeing. 
‘And you didn’t join her?’ 
‘No.’ 
You give him a half-baked explanation for why you didn’t, but all you’re thinking is how this isn’t going the way you hoped for it to go. This isn’t what the other significant others did in the videos you watched earlier.
But how do you save it?
‘Why are you asking about her?’
‘Just curious, I guess.’ 
‘Alright then,’ you fist his jacket in your hand. ‘It’s good to have you back home.’
He likes that, you know that because his heart rate picks up. Things are still a bit awkward between you, but that’s to be expected since you haven’t been talking much. 
With your arms around his neck, you press onto your toes and crane your neck to peck him on the lips. ‘And actually, babe, there’s something I want to show you.’
Jude tenses up at that, but it’s so subtle, if you weren’t in his arms, you would’ve missed it. 
‘You do?’ 
And like magic, he’s sobered up. Only a bit though. 
‘Don’t worry,’ you assure him, amused. ‘It’s nothing bad.’ 
Your assurance does nothing to ease his wound up body. 
‘Jude, relax. . . please.’ 
Still tense. Whatever, you won’t dwell on his anxiety. 
With a final peck to his lips, you step away from him and direct his attention to the island, where the football booties you went out to buy earlier are placed next to a toddler Real Madrid jersey, a positive pregnancy test—you took another one a couple of hours ago—and the sonogram.
‘Surprise,’ you say softly. 
You want to sound excited, but it just comes out dejected.
You watch as he takes it in, your heart hammering against your chest. Unfortunately for you, you only have a view of his side profile but even from this angle, you can see that his usually expressive face is perfectly still. You can’t read him, and it feels like an eternity before he turns to face you.
‘Is this for real?’ 
You nod, the lump that has found a home in your throat making it hard to speak. Your vision’s also blurred, courtesy of the tears that have pooled in your eyes. 
‘It is?’
The first tear falls. 
‘Oh, baby.’ 
Jude lifts you into his arms and squeezes all the air from your lungs. 
Man, he’s so strong. 
Then he sort of holds you like that for a long time, and the next thing you know, your neck is damp. 
‘Babe, are you. . are you crying?’ 
He denies it, but you can feel the damp spot grow with each passing second you’re in his arms. Oh goodness, he is. 
‘I think you are.’ 
‘Shut up,’ he mutters, his voice muffled. 
You giggle when he tickles you. 
His reaction’s quite the relief and it feels like a ginormous load has been lifted off your shoulders. In terms of his reaction, you weren’t sure what to expect, but this is the best reaction possible, and as he holds you, all the lingering resentment about his past transgressions are forgotten.
Eventually, he sets you down to reveal his red rimmed eyes and similarly hued nose. 
‘How far along are you?’ 
Seven weeks and three days today, according to your doctor. When Dr Hernandez told you, you couldn’t believe you were so far along and didn’t notice. 
‘That’s what, almost two months?’ 
In defence of you though, between your work and Jude’s chaotic football schedule, you’ve been out of touch with your body. 
‘Did you know?’
‘I suspected it.’ You tell him about the morning after that night when you noticed that your period was late.  ‘I wanted to tell you, but I wanted to take the test first.’
‘And why didn’t you tell me after?’ 
‘I wanted the doctor to confirm it.’ 
You’ve grown so tired of standing, so you sit on the carpeted floor of the closet, and Jude joins you, pushing the ottoman to one side so that he can lean against the island. 
‘I called Dr Morena who referred me to Dr Hernandez.’
He scowls, ‘Who’s that?’ 
‘My obstetrician.’
The scowl deepens.
You sigh, ‘The doctor who’ll care for me during the pregnancy.’
‘Oh.’ With his legs spread and stretched out before him, he pulls you into him and sets you between them. ‘And you said that Dr Morena referred you to this. . .’
‘Obstetrician.’
‘Yeah, that.’
You hum in agreement as you rest your back against his torso. 
Dr Morena is your family GP.  
There’s a silent beat then he asks, ‘So he knew before me?’
‘Winnie too,’ you turn your head so that you’re partially facing him. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Winnie knew before me?’ 
The offence is evident in his voice.
‘I had to tell her,’ you defend, but this isn’t where you want to steer the conversation. ‘She helped me set this all up.’
He grunts.
‘Are you mad at me?’ 
‘Kinda.’ 
Well, now you feel bad. 
‘I’m sorry,’ you sit up and turn to face him, maintaining eye contact as you explain, ‘Had I known it would’ve offended you, I wouldn’t have done it.’
But she was so integral in all of this, a part of you’s glad you did. . . 
‘Oh, come on, Jude.’
He’s pouting, your big baby.
‘Cheer up, will you?’ you straddle him, cupping his face to gently stroke his cheek with your thumb. ‘I’m really sorry.’
It’s about another minute of silence and avoided eye contact, and you’re about to give up and on the verge of tears when: 
‘Babe, I’m only messing with you.’ 
A quiet beat, then there’s relief, followed by loud laughter. 
‘That wasn’t funny,’ you grouse, slapping him lightly on his chest. ‘I almost cried, you know.’
‘Come here,’ he pulls you into him. 
The traces of alcohol still linger in his speech, but he’s significantly sobered up since he got home ten minutes ago. 
‘I can’t believe you’re pregnant.’ 
And you can’t remember the last time Jude was this excited about something outside of football. His reaction almost makes you wish you had waited to share the news with him on his birthday, but that wouldn’t have worked because he’ll be in Germany then with the national team for the Euros. 
‘What are you thinking?’ 
‘How the pill doesn’t work a hundred percent,’ you pull away. 
But then again, with all the jet setting you’ve been doing, you probably weren’t taking it at the same time every day. 
With a flash of his signature smile, he concurs. 
‘My knees are starting to hurt,’ you announce as you move off of his lap and back to your previous spot between his legs. 
Jude places a hand over your stomach, and with your hands over his larger ones, you move them lower to the pelvic area.
‘There.’ 
He chuckles. ‘You know, I always dreamed of being a young dad.’
You didn’t know this about him.
‘Not at twenty-one,’ he continues, ‘but you know, in my twenties.’ 
It’s comforting to know that this baby fits into his life plan. 
‘How about you?’
‘I don’t know,’ you admit after a moment of consideration.
You’re still wrapping your head around the turn your life’s taken. The WAG thing kinda blindsided you, the fame too. The craziest part of this all is that you’ve made a career of it, built an entire brand. 
‘But I’m not mad at this plot twist.’ 
‘Our kid’s a plot twist?’ he chuckles. 
You nod. ‘Clearly we weren’t paying attention in sex education.’ 
He kisses the top of your head. 
‘Dr Hernandez said that the baby’s about the size of a blueberry,’ you tell him.
It’s such a random fact, but you feel compelled to share it with him. 
‘That’s really tiny.’
‘Right?’ 
Jude keeps rubbing over the area, and you have an inkling he’ll make a habit of this. 
Some minutes pass, and then you remember that the camera’s still going, so you excuse yourself from Jude. 
‘Where’re you going?’ 
His grip is firm around your waist. 
‘I’m going to get the camera.’
He looks confused, but he releases you. On bended knees, you shuffle over to the other end of the island to quickly grab it, but you don’t stop the recording. When you get back to Jude, you find him in a daze, silently staring at the sonogram in his hand. 
‘She’s so tiny,’ he comments when you sit at your previous spot, facing him. 
‘She?’ 
Talk about wanting to be a girl dad.
‘You think the baby’s a girl?’ 
He looks up to find a camera in his face. ‘What, you think it’s a boy?’
You shrug, you haven’t actually given it much thought. ‘Well, do you think you can handle a mini me?’
He makes a face. 
‘Ah, take it back,’ you giggle. 
He takes the camera and turns the lens to you. ‘Well, now I’m asking you. Y/N, do you think Baby Bellingham’s a girl or a boy?’ 
You pause to think about it. A mini you or a mini Jude, how difficult. ‘Well, I’m going the opposite, I think Baby Bellinghamʼs a boy.’
You snuggle into him, ear pressed against his chest, camera still in your face, but you’re both in the frame. One fact people don’t know about your boyfriend is that he’s a master vlogger, and he’s actually recorded many segments for your vlogs that will never see the light of day because when it comes to Jude, you’re a shameless gatekeeper. 
‘I want to shower before bed,’ he proclaims once the recording has stopped. ‘Join me?’ 
You’ve already taken your shower, but you figure a second one wouldn’t hurt. Jude takes your hand and leads you out of the closet and into the bathroom, where you strip out of your clothes. 
‘Is it my imagination, or are your boobs getting bigger?’
Huh? 
You look down at your exposed breasts, ‘Are you joking?’
‘No, I’m not,’ with a hand on each shoulder, he turns you towards the mirror. ‘Look.’ 
You’re looking at them, but they still look the same to you, but he’s adamant. Then, in a move you deem perverted—in a good way, of course—, he cups them in his hands. 
‘What are you doing?’ At this point, you can’t contain your laughter. 
‘How are you not seeing this?’ 
He must’ve drank more than you realise, because what the fuck is this? 
‘Are you high?’ 
His face twists with disapproval, ‘No, why?’ 
‘The boobs,’ you turn to him, ‘what’s with the sudden fascination with them?’
‘I like your boobs, you know this.’ 
You do. And you like his butt. 
‘Come,’ you wrap your hand around his wrist and pull him into the shower. ‘I think you’re tired.’
And horny. 
You turn the faucet to run the water. 
As you’d imagine, not much showering is done. 
‘Careful not to wet your hair,’ you warn him, but it’s too late.
‘I don’t care,’ he says flippantly as he takes your face between his hands and leans over to kiss you. 
This is not what you came here to do. 
You’re both covered in suds. 
‘Jude, I need to rinse my body.’
‘Later,’ he mutters against your lips. 
‘Jude!’ you squeal. 
He’s such a Silly Billy when he wants to be.
You gasp into his passionate kiss when you suddenly feel the cold shower wall against your back. In a swift and slick movement, Jude trails kisses across your left shoulder and you tilt your head to one side to give him better access to your neck.
A soft moan escapes your parted lips as he sucks on the sensitive skin. 
‘Jude. . .’
You want to tell him to stop, but the hand on his naked lower back pulls him into to you. 
He hums into the kiss as his hand moves up your body to cup your boob, ‘Tonight, you’ve made me the happiest man alive.’ 
His vulnerability catches you off guard, how can you not give into him. . .
///
For breakfast this morning, you’re making honey butter toast using a recipe you found on the internet. It’s your first time making it and you’re not entirely sure what you’re doing here, but Jude saw it on Pinterest the other week and begged you to make it, so that’s what he’ll have for breakfast. 
It’s a simple enough recipe, but knowing you and your iffy cooking skills, this could either be a major success or an epic fail—nothing in the middle. If it does fail though, you’ve got the regular bacon and egg fry-up on standby. 
But only positive thoughts in this kitchen. 
You’ve got your favourite morning playlist going softly in the background, and today’s what you consider the perfect Saturday morning. The sun is fully out, and the expansive windows of the apartment allow for the natural light to pour into the space and warms it. 
You put the toast into the oven and set the timer. 
At the end of the summer, your lease for this apartment will be up, but the likelihood of you extending it has significantly shrunk with the latest development in your life. The song goes, “First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes Y/N with a baby carriage,” but you’ve skipped parts, so some things need to be shifted around. 
That means that the house hunting that you’ve been putting off needs to start. . . now, really. 
This is where Coralie comes in handy, but you’re not talking to her. She actually reached out to you Sunday morning to apologise for your awkward encounter at the restaurant that night. Her text read: 
Coralie: Last night, I overstepped and I’m really sorry and embarrassed by my actions. Please forgive me. 
You’re yet to respond to the text, but you don’t plan to anytime soon because you don’t accept her stupid apology. As far as you’re concerned, she’s an insignificant homewrecker. She is two-faced and vindictive and incredibly cruel for subjecting you to such humiliation. 
She laughed with you, acted like a friend when she was fucking your man behind your back for six months. 
‘Bitch,’ you mumble as you load the dishes into the wash.
But she’s not worth the time, emotions, nor the energy. So with a deep breath, you bop thoughts of her out of your mind, and move on with your day. 
Easy. 
A half hour later, breakfast is ready to be served. You’ve gone all out with this meal, and it would be an absolute shame to not take a picture to post onto your IG story. Very quickly, you snap a picture to post later, and take the food to your sleeping boyfriend before the ice-cream starts to melt. 
He’s still fast asleep, but he’s since shifted sleeping positions, and he’s hugging your pillow. 
How cute? 
When he wakes up, you expect him to be hungover and grouchy from all his boozing, and you just know he’ll play it up for attention. If there’s one thing you know about your boyfriend it’s that he dies for attention, and he simply cannot resist being babied. 
‘Wakey wakey sleepyhead.’ 
You place the heavy tray onto the bedside table, on the other side of it to avoid it getting bumped by mistake, and attempt to wake him again. 
Still, nothing. 
‘Jude,’ you mount him, peppering a million tiny kisses against the side of his pretty face. Even in his slumber, he looks perfect. ‘Come on, you got your eight hours, it’s time to wake up.’ 
He grunts, then sends you away. 
‘But I got food,’ you object with feigned sadness. 
But he doesnʼt budge. 
Alright, sweet coaxing out the window. ‘Babe, I made honey butter toast and the ice-cream’s rapidly melting. Wake up.’ 
There’s another silent beat and then, ‘What the hell is that?’ 
Of course he doesn’t remember what it is.
‘Honey butter toast,’ you repeat, as if it’ll somehow miraculously make him know what it is. ‘That bread you saw on Pinterest and begged me to make.’
He’s still clueless, but at least you’ve got his attention. Finally, with a long groan, he sits up, moving cautiously to not send you tumbling to the floor. 
‘What time is it?’
‘Ten.’ 
He cusses softly as he rubs his face. ‘I’m supposed to meet with my parents at eleven.’
You didn’t know that. 
But it’s clearly nothing pressing because he doesn’t seem fazed by the fact that he’s running late. He yawns, rubs his eyes and face some more, then turns to you—sitting comfortably on his lap—and smiles. ‘Good morning.’ 
You mirror his expression. ‘Morning. You hungry?’
‘Starving. What’s for breakfast?’
‘Here,’ you slide off his lap to take the tray and hand it to him. ‘It’s my first time making it, so be nice.’
He assesses the tray of food you’ve placed before him, then looks back up at you. ‘Nine out of ten for the presentation.’
Your brows furrow, ‘Why not ten?’ 
‘Some of the ice-cream has melted and it looks a bit sloppy.’ 
‘Yeah, and who’s fault is that?’ 
He lets out a hearty laugh, but you’re not amused by this judge. 
You climb back onto the bed, your eyes fixed on Jude as he puts the first forkful of the honey butter toast, with a little bit of the vanilla ice-cream and salted caramel sauce, into his mouth.
He chews, then he moans, his eyes widen, more chewing, and then finally, he swallows. 
This is a good reaction. 
‘You like it?’ 
‘I love it,’ he cuts another piece of the toast. ‘Ten out of ten for the taste. Did you make the ice-cream and caramel sauce yourself?’
‘Alright, Paul Hollywood.’ You grab the extra fork you had on the tray and dig in—curious about the taste—and are met with protests from Jude. ‘I just want a little taste.’ 
‘Get your own.’ 
Your bottom lip juts out, it’s your turn to pout. ‘Yeah, but I’m pregnant.’ 
With a heavy sigh, he proclaims, ‘And so it starts.’
You can’t help but laugh at his solemn tone. 
The two of you remain in bed, even after he’s finished having his breakfast, because his outing with his parents has now been postponed to two o’clock. If it were any other day, you’d join them, but you promised to accompany Winnie to the art gallery and you don’t think you can get out of it. 
Turning into your side, Jude questions, ‘Why does she have to go to the art gallery?’ 
Because she’s in her art girl era, inspired by her latest fling, an up-and-coming visual artist from Portugal. His name’s Baltasar, and they met at Coachella a couple months back, and lately, he’s all she ever talks about. You think she’s in love. 
‘A visual artist?’ 
‘Yep.’ 
‘So he’s broke?’ 
‘Hey, don’t be mean,’ you chide. 
He doesn’t care though, he thinks it’s funny. 
‘You’re such an asshole, d’you know that?’ 
‘Babe, I’m just kidding.’ 
Yeah, right. 
‘Well, she really likes him so if she mentions it to you, keep the bad jokes to yourself.’ 
‘Noted,’ his mouth connects with your cheek.
The conversation smoothly transitions from Winnie’s new boyfriend to Jobe, who’s relentlessly trying to convince his older brother to take a short trip to Ibiza before he has to report for international duty. You think it’s a great idea, a final hoorah before it gets serious again.
‘Will you come with?’
‘Ibiza sober? Count me out.’
‘I’ll drink for the both of us.’ 
‘Uh, definitely not,’ your fingers glide up and down his naked back. ‘And I think Jobe wants this to be a boy’s trip. No girlfriends.’
‘But you’re not my girlfriend.’ 
Huh? ‘I’m not?’ 
‘You recently got upgraded to baby mum.’ 
He’s an idiot. Who even laughs at their own jokes this much? Either way, you’re not going to Ibiza with them. It’s another half hour of mindless chatter before you ask,
‘What time is it?’ 
‘Early.’ 
‘Jude, I’m being serious,’ you reach blindly for your phone and find it on the other end of the bed. ‘I need to start getting ready.’ 
‘Can’t you postpone it for another day?’
‘Winnie leaves tomorrow night.’ 
But he’s not budging, and so you have to use all of your might to shove him off of you. 
Your strength leaves him shook. ‘Where’d that come from?’ 
‘It’s all those training sessions you’re paying for.’
He swells with pride—men. 
‘Will you join me?’
Jude perks up. 
‘But we’re only showering, nothing else.’ 
And he’s dejected. 
‘I’ll just sit on the side and watch.’ 
That’s fine by you. 
He follows you into the bathroom, and you think you hear him mumble something about you making it worth his while. 
///
What your gallery date conveniently forgot to mention was that Baltasar would be joining your gallery excursion. Had you known he’d be here, you would’ve asked Jude to tag along so it could be a double date or something.  
Jude: How’s it going? 🖼️
You’re miserable here, and you’re pretty sure you’re third wheeling. And look, you want to be supportive of your best friend, right? But it’s so hard to be when the guy she’s seeing’s the textbook definition of an asshole. 
You’re one pretentious comment away from faking morning sickness to get out of this. 
You: I’m having the worst time
You: The art is great, but he’s so smug 🙄
And he’s rude, so rude, and he’s determined to talk over you. 
Jude: The artist? 🎨🧑‍🎨
You: Yeah, I don’t think he likes me :/ 
And you’d actually be doing him a favour by leaving, you’d be doing you both the favour because at this point, you feel like you’re intruding and you’re starting to feel awkward. 
Jude: Well fuck him 
His text makes you chortle. 
At least Winnie’s making an effort to include you. Every now and again, she’ll ask for your opinion on certain pieces, but in the end, you just can’t do it. 
You can’t be here anymore. 
‘Hey,’ you lightly tap Winnie’s shoulder.
She turns to regard you, ‘Hey, what’s up?’
‘Can I talk to you for a second?’ 
‘Sure.’
She excuses herself from Baltasar, who’s really displeased with your intrusion, and you find a quiet corner. 
‘Is everything okay?’
‘Yeah, everything’s fine, the art’s great, but I’m not feeling too hot.’
‘Oh no,’ her brows knit in concern, ‘is it morning sickness?’ 
She’s buying it, good. 
‘I think I’m going to head home, you know, to lie down for a couple hours.’ 
‘Yeah, alright,’ she takes your hand in hers and lightly squeezes it. 
‘But how will you get back to the apartment?’ 
You are her ride home after all. 
‘I was planning on spending the rest of the afternoon with Baltasar,’ she looks over her shoulder at him and when she looks back at you, she’s blushing, ‘but what about you? Are you fine to drive in your condition?’ 
‘It’s just a little nausea, I promise I’ll be fine.’ 
It takes a minute to convince her, but you don’t relent, and in the end, you manage to convince her. 
‘Now go,’ you nudge her towards her waiting love interest. ‘Have fun with your boyfriend–’
‘Uh, he’s not my boyfriend,’ she quickly interjects, her voice dropping to a scolding whisper. 
You smile knowingly, sure he isn’t. 
‘What makes you say he’s my boyfriend? Did he say something to you?’
‘No, but I saw the way you were looking at him,’ you shrug, ‘the way he was looking at you.’ 
Winnie’s uncharacteristically shy all of a sudden. 
‘I’ve clearly misread the situation,’ you start backing away from her. ‘But we’ll talk more about it later, okay?’
‘Promise to text me when you get home.’ 
‘I pinky promise to call you when I get home,’ you blow her a kiss. 
You wave goodbye to Baltsar, who seems pleased to see you go, and then you’re out of there. 
It’s a short drive home from the gallery, and you’re glad to be back home, but you wish Jude was here with you.
You: I miss you.
As soon as the message’s sent, you regret sending it. But you can always blame pregnancy for making you so clingy. 
You fall back onto the bed with a long exhale. What to do with your time? You could watch a movie or you could go the self-care route. 
The other day, a skincare brand sent you a few collagen face masks you’ve been dying to try. It’s one of those that melts into your skin. And since you’re on that path, you can also soak in the tub ‘cause you haven’t done that in a while. And if you’re really up to it, maybe you can do your nails. 
But first: 
You: Got home safe. Have fun with your friend ;) can’t wait to hear about it later x
Jude misses you too. He’s also still with his parents but should be home before dinner.  
You: Did you tell them about… 🫄
Jude: No. I thought we’d do it together.
That’s a good plan. 
You: Great idea. I’ll see you later, I love you x
Jude: I love you more 😘
Dinner time’s a while away, so you’ve got plenty of time to have your self-care afternoon. 
The tub is halfway full, the bubbles foaming, the steam and aroma engulfing the space when your phone notifies you that someone’s at the door. 
Your body’s sheathed by a robe, but you still feel indecent as you make your way to the door. 
The doorbell goes off a second time just before you reach the door, and when you open it, the last person you expect to find standing on the other side of it is Coralie. 
Yes, Coralie’s at your door and she looks like. . . Well, she looks like shit. 
‘Y/N,’ she forces her lips into a tight smile. ‘Hi.’ 
The shock has you frozen for a moment, but you’re quick to recover. ‘Jude’s not home.’ 
You’re curt because you want her out of your sight and you’ve left the water running in the bathroom. 
‘I know he isn’t.’
She does?
‘I’m not here to see Jude, I’m actually here to see you.’
Of course she’s here to see you. 
‘Why?’
‘‘Cause there’s so much we need to talk about, woman to woman.’ 
“Woman to woman”, what a joke? And it takes everything in you to stop your eyes from rolling. What the fuck does that even mean?
‘Can’t we schedule this for another time? I’m kinda in a rush.’
‘It won’t take long, I promise.’ 
Hell, she can’t take a hint, can she?
‘Can I come in?’
‘We can’t talk about whatever it is here?’ you tighten your grip around the door handle to stop your hand from shaking. ‘I mean, you said it yourself, it won’t take long.’
‘Yeah, but it’s weird doing it at the door, so can I come in?’
‘You’re in no position to call the shots.’ 
‘Please,’ she sounds desperate. ‘I just need ten minutes of your time, then I promise I’ll go.’ 
The more you look at her, the worse she looks. Honestly, she looks like she’s been to hell and back, and if you didn’t hate her so much, you’d feel sympathy. 
‘Ten minutes, then you have to leave.’ 
‘That’s all I ask, thank you.’
And so despite your better judgement, you step to one side to allow her into the apartment. As you shut the door, you offer her a drink.
‘I’ll have a water, thank you.’
‘We’ve got water in the fridge.’ You walk towards your bedroom to shut off the running water, ‘I’ll be with you in a moment.’ 
On the short trek, you dig your phone from your robe pocket. 
You: Coralie’s here she says she wants to talk but i’m uneasy
You shut the faucet. You quickly change out of your robe into the first clothing items you stumble upon, which are the sweats Jude was wearing earlier. They’re loosely fitting, but they’re comforting because they smell like him.
Coralie’s in the living room, bottle of water in hand, and she’s focused on something out the window. 
‘Sorry I took so long.’
Your sudden intrusion snaps her out of her reverie, ‘It’s fine.’ 
Her eyes are fixed on you as you move around the space to take your seat on the sectional, feet tucked beneath your bum. 
This is so awkward. 
‘So,’ you start, breaking the ice, ‘you said you wanted to talk?’
You heard Jude out, so it’s only fair that you hear Coralie’s side of the story. 
‘Right,’ she clears her throat. ‘I assume you know about our. . .’
‘Affair?’
She winces at your choice of words. 
‘Yeah, I do.’
‘And he told you everything?’ 
‘That you got drunk last December and hooked up? That you’ve been hooking up behind my back for the last six months?’
She sits perfectly still, but her trembling lower lip betrays her. 
‘That you were sending inappropriate texts, pictures, and videos. . .’ you continue, pleased to see her squirm in her seat. ‘Am I missing anything else?’ 
It’s only been, what? Five days since you last saw her, but in the short time span, she’s aged a decade. Coralie’s never disclosed her age, but you’ve always placed her in her late-twenties, maybe early-thirties, but today she looks well into her forties.
‘How did you find out?’
‘I saw the drunk text you sent him, what did it say again?’ you pause for dramatic effect. ‘Right, “I’m drunk and I miss you. Call me.”’ 
She’s fidgeting with the bottle in her hand, her head bowing in shame. ‘Y/N, I’m really sorry.’
‘What are you apologising for?’
‘All of it.’ She looks up at you, ‘I’m sorry that you found out the way you did.’ 
You hear her, but you’re not ready to accept her apology. Especially because she’s cutting into your self-care time with this crap. 
‘Who made the first move?’ 
‘Jude did.’
Your heart aches at the revelation, it’s like someone has driven a sharp knife into it. 
‘He was upset at you, he didn’t say why but he was really cut up about a fight you had,’ she proceeds. ‘And if it wasn’t me, it would’ve been someone else.’
You think you might throw up. 
‘But he was drunk, we both were, and. . .’ her voice trails. 
An uncomfortable silence descends upon the room because really, what else is there to say? 
‘Do you love him?’ 
‘Does it matter?’
It doesn’t matter, but you want to know. Let’s say it’s curiosity.
‘He’s hard not to love.’
That’s true.
‘But am I in love with him? No.’ 
Some of the tension in your shoulders eases. 
‘And he doesn’t love me either,’ and she almost sounds sad when she says that. ‘It was only ever sex between us, nothing more.’
But the texts. . . what did they mean? 
‘Nothing,’ she insists. ‘Call it harmless flirtation.’
‘Harmless?’
She flushes, ‘You know what I mean.’ 
So you now know that he was mad at you, they were both drunk, they fucked and you think Coralie regrets it, but you’re not sure. 
‘Who pursued it?’ 
‘What?’ 
‘Your. . . thing, the affair,’ it irks you to say it. 
‘Oh, Y/N, I don’t think you–’ 
‘Was it Jude?’ 
‘He loves you.’
‘I know he loves me.’ 
Coralie’s quiet which furthers your frustration at her. 
‘Did he pursue the affair?’
‘Why does it matter? It doesn’t change anything because in the end, he chose you.’ It’s like it pains her to say it. ‘He’ll always choose you.’
You nod. 
After another long and awkward silence, she professes, ‘You know, I felt awful deceiving you because you really are such a good person.’
‘Don’t start with that crap.’ 
‘No, I mean it. You’re a good person, and we were friends–’
‘We were never friends,’ you interrupt. ‘You were never my friend.’ 
You tolerated her, there’s a difference. 
‘I know you’re upset with me, and trust me, I get it, but come on,’ she persists. ‘We were friendly with each other.’ 
‘You sleep with all your friends’ boyfriends?’ 
That shuts her up. 
‘Look, Coralie, I appreciate the apology,’ you pull your phone from the sweatpants pocket to check the time and discover eight missed calls from Jude. ‘But you said you’d be here for ten minutes, and you’ve exceeded that time.’ 
‘I know, and I’m really sorry about that, but there’s one last thing I want to tell you.’ 
Your stomach twists with dread—she better not tell you that she’s pregnant. The cheating you can move past, but a child you can’t recover from. 
‘You’re pregnant?’ 
‘What?’ She looks offended that you’d even ask her that question. ‘No, I’m not pregnant.’
You sigh in relief. 
She’s not pregnant, but she did lose her job. She received the call this morning to let her know that her services were no longer required by the club. She’s certain Jude had something to do with it, so she’s here to plead with you to talk sense into him. 
‘And I meant what I said, I really am sorry for the inconvenience that I’ve caused in your life, but Y/N, I really need this job,’ she concludes. 
‘How are you so sure he had something to do with it?’ 
She shoots you an incredulous look as if to say, ‘Really?’ 
‘And if he did have something to do with it, what makes you think he’d listen to anything I have to say?’ 
‘Because you told him to end our arrangement and he did.’
‘But you said it yourself, you mean nothing to him.’ 
She flinches again. 
‘I mean, I can try to talk to him, but I can’t promise you anything.’ 
‘Thank you,’ she smiles. ‘That’s all I ask.’ 
‘Well, like I said, I have somewhere to be so–’
You don’t get to finish the sentence, ‘cause you’re cut off by a panicked Jude who storms into the apartment, followed by an equally panicked Mark. 
‘Babe?’ 
Thank the heavens he’s here.
///
You wake up in the middle of the night to find Jude’s side of the bed empty. At first you think he’s in the bathroom, but when five minutes pass and he’s not back, the panic sets in. You grab your phone off of the bedside table to check the time: 2:38. 
Where the hell is he?
You sit up and search the dark room for traces of him, but there’s nothing—only his phone on the bedside table.
It’s been hours since your confrontation with Coralie, but you’re yet to process it all. You’re still in shock at the fact that she rocked up at your door the way she did, but you’d be lying if you said the conversation wasn’t cathartic. 
‘Jude?’ 
You push the covers away and climb off of the bed. After you locate your house shoes, you set out to find him. 
His phone is here, so he shouldn’t be far. 
‘Jude?’ 
As you make your trek down the short passage, you hear soft chatter coming from the TV room. When you turn the corner, you find Jude sitting on the couch, his long legs stretched out in front of him, feet resting on the coffee table. 
A smile takes over your face at the sight of him. 
‘Hey, you,’ he greets you as you crawl into his lap. 
‘Hi,’ you tuck your face in the crook of his neck and inhale his scent. ‘What are you watching?’ 
‘Pulp Fiction.’
Of course he is. 
‘Why’re you up?’ 
You trace patterns on his t-shirt clad chest. ‘I woke up and you weren’t in bed. I panicked.’
He tightens his arms around you, ‘Why?’
‘I don’t know,’ you sit up. ‘This pregnancy has me acting weird.’ 
‘Yeah, blame it on the pregnancy,’ he teases. 
‘Shut up,’ you shift to straddle him. ‘Why are you sitting here alone?’
His hands settle on your waist, ‘I didn’t want to wake you.’
There’s still so much to discuss in terms of Coralie and her claims, but tonight just isn’t the time for that.
‘Do you think we’ll ever be okay again?’ 
‘Yeah,’ he takes your mouth into a deep kiss. 
‘Come to bed with me,’ you whisper against his lips, moaning when he slips a hand between you, teasing his fingers through your slick folds. 
‘I don’t think we’ll make it to bed.’ 
///
Tagged:
@luv4bellingham
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sepublic · 12 hours
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Speaking of; The Owl House's pitch bible got leaked as well! So while I look for the rest of it, let’s examine some interesting tidbits I found on Proto-Belos, or 'Obron' as he was once known, and William AKA Proto-Hunter!
Can I just say, I'm quite smug to know that Belos resurrecting the Titan as his endgame was always the original plan? I called it from the start! It was also kinda obvious, but c'mon. The Bionicle fan in me was obsessed.
I'm not surprised about the mentions of Pupa, or the name Obron or even the appearance; We've actually seen all of this before! But what does make me curious is the mention of two other councilors... So there's supposed to be a trio? Again, I always bring up the three statue motif in my speculation about the original plans of the show, I wonder if there's any connection there. Would Kikimora have been one of the other councilors, and who would've been the third? And it seems the coven system was always a thing, early on at least.
Yeah, the mention of '500 years' and the connection to William, etc. Even as Obron he was supposed to have been a human witch hunter turned actual witch. Comparing this to the pilot we got, it may not be Obron that the characters are referring to, since he's not the Emperor. But maybe he declared himself Emperor since he was basically the only one in charge by that point.
Makes me wonder if he hates humans under the delusion of 'I hate modern humans'. He hates what humanity has become and he's taking out his anger on modern humans; We also know the main reason he wants Luz in the pilot, to awaken the Titan. I presume Obron preserved William in stasis and hid him away, only for Luz to wake him up earlier than intended. I can imagine the scene/episode where Obron realizes William has been awake and roaming about for a while now...
There's the confirmation that Prince William and Hunter are the same character, or were. As I guessed, his witch-hunting tendencies would've been established early on as a strange gag, a quirk, only to become so much more darkly significant. I wonder if in this draft, Obron's past as a witch hunter also has relevance; Does he think he's 'saving' humanity by using the Titan to conquer both worlds, wiping out the denizens of one? Also him being a feral kid subsisting off of food given to him by friends is such Labyrinth Runners vibes. Was William always going to have his dynamic with Willow, given Luz plays a bigger role in him opening his mind?
Given we had a 'proof of concept' animation leaked a while back, I wonder if that was an even earlier draft to the pitch bible, given William is PRINCE William. Maybe he's meant to be an actual European human, because European bigotry towards witches existed back then I think, even if it wasn't as pronounced. And Obron does bear a resemblance to one of the Proto-Belos designs, though I'm not sure which came first.
…Huh. Would William have been Obron’s nephew or. God. Would he have been his brother. And while William never grew up because magical stasis, Obron did and now sees his brother be the exact same but also change. Man. And William just has to reconcile, when he gets his memories back, the jump from his brother, a kid like him, to Obron. So we still got the desperate attempt to preserve his brother, only for his brother/Hunter to ‘betray’ him.
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exitwound · 1 day
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do you have any advice for people who are scared of confronting life and reality
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from telephone by percival everett: “You kill yourself because you don’t live in this world.”
i’m sorry to open with the bluntness of this passage— it is the opposite of an imperative but a proposed explanation—also I included the context but don’t take the context too seriously I think the line is better left on its own. all of that said: since it’s such a brutal way to answer an ask seeking advice on something i think needs to be done with like truly extraordinarily levels of tenderness and forgiveness for the self, at least if i’m understanding what you’re asking about—then I think this excerpt is worth including here bc although it doesn’t answer your question it does show what the stakes can be i think. It also really resonates with me because when Im suicidal it’s usually because I think I can’t live in this world. The concept that it’s not that i can’t and just that the nature of being suicidal makes me feel and act as if i’m not a part of this world was really beautiful to me. Im not saying mental illness etc is a choice but that life and reality is accessible to everyone. even if yours looks and feels different. it’s still yours.
i think that you have to confront life and reality because there is no reality if you don’t confront it and less real life for you. The worst part is thinking about the past in which you did not confront it but you don’t need to do and it is only another deterrent to the confrontation… You absolutely don’t need to regret anything to change and i know it’s so hard to figure out how to feel the urgency of your need to confront things enough to confront them without getting stuck in the pain of having not confronted them yet but tbh It just takes practice and all of the kindness you can find for yourself and then even more.Ans time and continued effort. but mostly kindness for yourself. thinking about why you want to confront your life—not bc you want to, plainly, but because you want yourself to be able to live well.—>Because you don’t want more suffering for yourself because you have love and compassion for yourself. it’s this kind of logic at least that has helped me a lot.
i also think everything that you are and everything that you give wants to find its way back to you and love you but if you are hiding from the world you live in it can’t find you very well!! i think it’s about trying to make yourself visible to yourself and then learning how to look without hatred or pain or regret. Also there’s beauty in reality because reality is true it’s not sinister it just is. and you will find all that beauty. also reality and life misses you. you’re good for it and for the world. It wants you in it and it wants you to know it and love it because it loves you. and your continued existence in the world makes the world feel loved. This is why we care about things
I hope this helped at all much much love
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stylesharrys · 6 hours
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special smokes [weedrry]
summary: harry and y/n struggle with their self-control after sharing a joint at niall’s house party. 
word count: 3,774
warnings: mentions and consumption of marijuana (smoking a joint) and alcohol, smut; kissing, teasing, swearing, dirty talk, oral (male receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, cream pie, light spanking 
a/n: at first i had no intention of following up on weedrry and y/n but so many requested it and the more i considered it, the more ideas i kept getting hehe. they’re probably one of my favourite couples to write at this point and i have some other ideas in the woodwork for them aswell!! this is technically part two of special brownies but it can also be read as a standalone :) anyway, i hope you enjoy darlings and happy belated 420 hehe <3
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//
They promised to never talk about it again. But that didn’t stop either of them lying in bed at night, reminiscing how each other tasted. It didn’t stop Harry from thinking about his roommate as he touched himself in the shower and painted the tiles with his come. Just like it didn’t stop Y/N from pretending her thick dildo was Harry’s cock when she got herself off at three in the morning.
Neither of them was aware of the other's shenanigans. Harry thought Y/N was too embarrassed to think about it and Y/N thought Harry just forgot. Of course, Tom’s none the wiser to anything that’s happened. Even living with the two, he’s yet to notice that slight shift in the atmosphere – that tension that seems to follow wherever they go together.  
And tonight is no different. They’re both slightly turned on at the thought of one another as they sit huddled around the fire in Niall’s garden. He’s one of the few friends who was sensible enough to apply for a house rather than an apartment, and Harry is always sure to reap the benefits of it. 
It’s nearly ten o’clock and the house party Niall threw for his birthday is in full swing. Y/N recognises a few faces, not nearly as many as Harry (who’s known to have been a bit of a serial dater in the past), but it doesn’t change her mood in the slightest. 
She’s been perched on a sun lounger for the past forty-five minutes, five drinks in and slowly starting to feel the buzz of the alcohol. She promised herself she wouldn’t drink too heavily tonight – not when she knows how sleepy she gets with alcohol. She doesn’t want to be found passed out on some random person's bed that Niall houseshares with. 
Harry’s been sporting the same beer for the past half an hour. Much like Y/N, he also wasn’t really in the mood to get shitfaced, despite it being his best friend's birthday. He has a job interview tomorrow afternoon and he cannot deal with cradling a hangover at the same time. 
His eyes have been on her body most of the night. Despite living together, he’s hardly seen Y/N at home in the past two weeks since… well… you know. At first, he thought she was just busy, but now he’s starting to get the idea that she’s avoiding him. 
Harry’s sure it’s down to embarrassment, and as much as he wants his friend back, he promised he wouldn’t bring it up again. He doesn’t want to embarrass Y/N any further. It hurts his ego a little bit if he’s honest. Harry struggles to understand if she’s embarrassed she slept with her friend, or if she’s embarrassed because she slept with him.
If he pulled his head out of his ass, he might realise that it’s the former. Mostly. Because the other half of what she’s feeling is pure lust. Y/N struggles to even look at Harry the same since they hooked up two weeks ago. When she looks at him, all she sees is him naked – so she’s certain he sees the same when he looks at her. 
She takes another swig of her drink in an attempt to drown the groan that tries to escape. God, it’s criminal how even just the thought of him naked manages to get her worked up like this. He’s her friend for crying out loud. She needs to get her thoughts in order.
Harry’s telling himself the same thing. Struggling to think of anything other than kissing up her smooth, exposed thighs and burying his head under her little sundress right there, in front of everyone to see. His cock stiffens slightly in his pants and he shifts a little in his chair – as discretely as he can. 
“Who’s up for a round of spin the bottle!”
The group in the garden chant a groan in unison at Niall’s suggestion. “We’re not fifteen, Ni… nobody wants to play spin the bottle.” Alfie pipes up from his crisscrossed position on the patio floor. 
Niall rolls his eyes and places an empty wine bottle in the middle of the group anyway. Involuntarily, everyone begins to form a circle around it, knees knocking as they do. Y/N remains on the deck chair, pulling the back up so she sits upright like Harry who’s still opposite her.
Niall gets comfortable on the ground, his eyes alight like a kid on Christmas. He’s about to take his turn when he furrows his brows and begins to pat down his pockets like he’s forgotten something. 
“Anybody got a smoke?”
“Nah,” Jessie calls back, “I’ve got a couple of joints, though.” 
Harry and Y/N’s eyes find one another as their bodies grow paralysed at the mention of the one thing that got them in this situation in the first place. 
Shit. Shit. Shit. 
“Oooh,” Niall grins, “Jessie’s got the special smokes… come on then, lad. Light ‘em up and pass ‘em around.” 
Y/N’s heart begins to thump against her ribcage as she tears her gaze away from Harry’s. There’s no way in Hell this is happening right now. She tells herself to calm down, that she doesn’t have to have a pull of the joint. 
But as it makes its way around the circle until it’s between her fingers, she finds herself taking a long, deep drag of it anyway. It burns the back of her throat, as weed always has, but she holds it for as long as she can before slowly exhaling and passing it back down to Niall who sits in front of her. 
When she lifts her gaze, her eyes lock on Harry’s. There’s a shit-eating grin on his face as he holds the second joint between his fingers – like he knows they’re going to end up in the same situation as last time and he’s more than okay with that. Harry takes a drag just as Y/N had and passes it off to Genevieve next to him. 
Harry manages to hold it in longer than Y/N can and he keeps his eyes locked on hers when he slowly exhales. When the joint makes its way back to Y/N and she’s taking her second pull, she’s giving in to all the dirty thoughts in her head. Her wicked smirk matches Harry’s now and the game of spin the bottle begins. 
Niall starts first, landing on Genevieve who he kisses quite happily. Gen spins and lands on Jessie. Then when Jessie spins, he lands on… Y/N. 
Her eyes are quick to flicker between him and Harry as she registers the situation. There’s a third and fourth joint passing through the group and for a moment, she’s too stoned to realise what’s going on. 
There’s a look on Harry’s face, though – an unamused one. His jaw is set tightly and his brows are gently pinched as he watches Jessie approach Y/N with a lopsided grin. He doesn’t understand why anger begins to bubble in the pit of his stomach. And Y/N doesn’t understand why she feels so weird about being kissed by someone else in front of him. 
But she welcomes Jessie’s lips against hers anyway. It’s soft, gentle. He’s not a bad kisser, but after a few seconds, he pulls away and hands her the joint before returning to his seat. She looks to Harry again with pursed lips and he’s chewing at the inside of his cheek. 
Y/N takes another pull for the joint and reaches for the bottle when Niall’s hand on hers stops her. 
“I have an idea to make this more interesting.” 
She looks at him, eyebrow raised. 
“You have to hook up with the person it lands on.”
Her eyes widen and a laugh rumbles from her chest. “Niall, you can’t make me hook up with anyone. That’s not how this game works. You’re not fucking Cupid.” 
Niall frowns, displeased by her attitude. He crosses his arms over his chest and pinches the joint from her fingers, huffing. “Fine.” 
Y/N spins the bottle, leaning back as she watches it rotate until it lands on Harry. His eyes are on hers, hungry. She takes a deep breath and clears her throat, stepping between people as she approaches him. 
Harry cranes his head up, still not entirely happy that she kissed Jessie, but he welcomes her mouth on his instantly. They’re lustful, almost forgetting their surroundings as Harry swipes his tongue across her bottom lip. She’s about to do the same, to tangle her fingers in his hair when whistling and cheering breaks them apart. 
They’re both incredibly flushed and hot as Y/N moves back to her seat, licking over her bottom lip for another distant taste of him. Harry’s no better, his cock beginning to swell. He clears his throat and leans down to take his turn.
There’s a resounding gasp as it lands on Y/N and they're forced to kiss again, this time Harry approaching Y/N and kissing her a little hungrier. When she spins her turn, it lands back on Harry and the group is growing both tired and a little suspicious of the game. 
It gets harder and harder for them to keep their hands to themselves. The stolen kisses feed the fire in their bellies and Niall is quick to call off the game and suggest some truth or dare instead, like the fifteen-year-old he seems to be. 
Both Y/N and Harry hardly listen to the game unfold. Both are too stoned and lust-filled to pay attention to anything. They’re stealing glances from across the circle, sharing knowing looks that they’re both desperate to escape everyone else and hide away together somewhere. 
It goes on like this for another ten minutes and pinching the joint from Niall’s hand, Harry takes initiative and stands from his chair. “Y/N, shall we go and sort out Ni’s present now?” 
He’s got a brow raised expectantly and her eyes widen at his little fib. They both miss the way Niall looks between them with a beaming smile full of excitement. 
“You’s got me a present?” 
Y/N blinks, finally looking at her friend. “Oh, yeah! Sorry, we completely forgot. Do you mind if we get it sorted? It’s not quite finished yet.” She lies through her teeth. 
Harry’s smirk grows tenfold at the way she plays along with the little game and Niall nods his head. 
“Thanks, Ni,” Harry says kindly, voice a bit condescending but Niall’s too stoned to notice. “Do you mind if I smoke this in the house?” 
Niall waves his hand dismissively. “I don’t care, I do it all the time.” 
Harry looks back to Y/N, tilting his head to the door with a smirk. She follows him inside, giddy with lust and anticipation. He takes her hand in his, guiding her as he weaves through other party-goers until they reach the stairs. It’s a little quieter when they reach the top, Harry opening doors and quickly closing them when he finds they’re already occupied. 
He’s growing frustrated, only one room left that he hasn’t checked – Niall’s room. He tugs them both inside when he realises it’s empty, closing and locking the door behind them. Harry takes a pull of the joint and leaves it hanging between his lips as his fingers work on the buttons at the top of Y/N’s sundress. 
She’s full of adrenaline and arousal, unable to think clearly – her mind far too consumed by lust. Harry pops open just enough buttons to reveal her bare chest, breasts exposed to his hungry eyes and he groans. 
Taking the joint from his lips, he brings it to Y/N’s, encouraging her to take a hit. She does as instructed as Harry’s hands find her tits, kneading softly before he leans down to envelop her left nipple in his warm mouth. 
She exhales the smoke a bit prematurely, taking another pull to make up for it and with her free hand, her fingers tangle into his brown locks. 
“Harry,” she breathes and it’s like crack to him; hearing his name tumble off her lips like that. God, he wants that on repeat in his mind forever. 
He nips at the underswell of her breast, pinching the perk nipple between his fingers. “What do you want?” he mumbles against the fleshy skin.
Y/N tugs at the roots of his hair, forcing his head up until their eyes are level. She places the joint between his lips now and slowly begins to sink to her knees. 
“I want to taste you.” 
Harry’s eyes are blown and bloodshot as she begins to unbutton his pants, shimmying them down his thighs just enough to allow his cock to spring free. He’s bigger than she remembers him to be; thick and full and his ruddy tip begins to leak with arousal.
Y/N laps at his slit, allowing herself a taste. It’s an unholy sight – the way her breasts gently move as she closes her mouth around him. In Harry’s intoxicated state, everything feels so much more heightened. Her mouth feels warmer, wetter… the whole thing feels filthy and he loves it. 
She’s pressing slopping kisses along the length of him, angling her face to take his balls into her hot mouth as she pays them a little more attention. She pulls off him with a gentle kiss, staring up with doe eyes and a devilish grin. 
“Fuck my throat.”
Harry could’ve come there and then, hearing those words fall from her lips. He takes another drag of the joint before pinching it back between his fingers and placing his open palms on the side of her head – the smoke from the joint no doubt clinging to her hair. 
If she was sober, she’d tell him off for it. But she’s not and she doesn’t. 
Instead, she relaxes her jaw as her mouth opens and her tongue lays flat as Harry guides his cock back to the waiting hole. Taking a shaky breath, his hips slowly begin to move, getting her used to his size until he picks up momentum. 
Y/N’s eyes begin to sting, tears welling and his head hits the back of her throat, knocking the air from her lungs. Harry grows faster, eager. His chest is heaving and his lips part as he fucks into her. 
It’s obscene, the noises her throat makes as he shoves himself further down with every snap of his lips. Strings of saliva begin to drip from the corners of Y/N’s mouth as she gags around him, her throat contracting as she splutters on his cock. 
“Taking me so fucking well, baby.”
The praise goes straight to her cunt, wetness seeping through her little panties with every syllable he throws her way. Her eyes are shut tight now, unable to keep them open as Harry uses her for his own pleasure. 
It’s sloppy and messy and needy. Neither of them have experienced anything so fucking sexy in their lives. The sex was good before, but this time – sneaking around and much higher than previously – it’s even more intense. 
It doesn’t take much for Harry to near his end. And when Y/N cradles his heavy balls in her hand, fingernails ghosting over the divots of skin, Harry’s certain he’s about to meet his maker. 
He pulls out of her mouth harshly, not giving her the chance to tell him she needs his cum drowning her throat. His arousal is too quick to paint her chest, coating her nipples in creamy ecstasy as Y/N struggles to catch her breath. 
He comes, a lot, but his stamina doesn’t falter. She’s barely given chance to admire the artwork he marked her with before he’s tugging her up by the crook of her elbow. Y/N’s shoved against the foot of the bed, legs spread and ass in the air, tummy on the mattress. 
Harry’s hands are hungry on her hips, bunching up the bottom of her sundress until it rests on her lower back. He feels over her subtle asscheeks, offering three spanks to her left and whimpering as the fleshy skin wobbles. 
“Harry, please.”
She’s whining now, eager to be filled again. Harry tugs her little thong to the side, her cunt glistening and puffy from neglect. He wants to taste her, spend an eternity between her soaked thighs but the way Y/N wiggles her hips and backs up against him suggests she needs something more right now. 
“I just wanna taste you for a bit,” he says. 
She’s shaking her head, despite how badly she wants to feel him lapping up her pussy. She’s far too soaked and horny to settle for his tongue right now.
“Next time.”
Harry’s heart races a little at that. Next time? So, she plans for there to be. Not that Harry has a problem with it. He’d be more than fucking happy to make this a regualr thing if she wanted it. 
Listening to her request, he lines his head with her entrance, pushing through her folds to coat himself in her slickness. Her legs are trembling in need, face smushed into the blanket and she knows she’s ruining it with her makeup and the come that covers her tits, but she cannot bring herself to care. 
With the joint still between his fingers, Harry brings it back to his lips for another drag. He lines himself back with her puckering hole and gentle sheaths inside. She’s tight – tighter than he remembers – and her walls are so fucking slick it feels like he’s being swallowed whole. 
A shriek escapes Y/N’s mouth at the familiar intrusion, the way he stretches and fills her to the brim. Her mind feels dizzy, vision dotting with white lights as Harry begins to fuck the soul out of her. 
It’s fast and deep, and she’s quick to soak his pubic bone with arousal. Harry leans over her body, guiding the joint to her lips, allowing her a puff. “Hold onto that for me, gorgeous.” 
She takes it from her lips and stretches her arm above her head, wrist against the blanket and joint pointing in the air. His hands are back on her hips as he grips her tight. 
“Good girl, angel.” 
Smack!
His pace is criminal, balls slapping against her throbbing clit with every hit of his hips that he delivers. She’s struggling to stay coherent, unable to string a sentence together as she begs him for more, more, more. 
Harry grips her hips hard, bringing her cunt to him as he fucks into her. Y/N’s body is limp — lets him use her as a toy for his own pleasure and takes whatever he offers. 
She shouldn’t enjoy this so much, getting fucked by her friend, her roommate. But it’s too good to realise they’re stepping on dangerous territory. With the promise of next time. 
“Tight little cunt was fucking made for me.” 
“It’s yours! I’m yours!” 
Her words are a struggle to speak, heart in her throat as her pussy drips for him. It’s too much for Harry. To see her so bare and willing and done for him. To know the affect he has on her, to be buried so fucking deep in her cunt that she can hardly talk. 
His orgasm creeps up on him quickly, cock twitching within the tight confinements of her walls. She feels it, she feels everything. And it only spurs her release on, too. 
Her cunt clenches around him, legs beginning to tremble and a wanton cry crawls out from her lips. “I’m gonna come!” 
Harry keeps his pace steady, coaxes her through it with deep and precise strokes. The tip of his cock continues to pinch at her cervix, the curve in his length rubbing deliciously against her g-spot. 
Y/N shudders around him, desperate to milk him for all he’s got as she explodes. She’s quick to bury her face into the blanket, muffling her screams as her vision spots black and white kaleidoscopes behind her eyes. 
“Give it to me, baby. Come all over me… that’s it.” 
He’s quick to follow, bursts of hot come painting the walls of her cunt and Harry stills inside of her, knees buckling as he tries to keep himself steady. 
It’s quiet for a moment, save for their heavy breathing and wheezing chests. 
It must be true what they say about post-nut clarity. Because as they come down from their highs, there’s a tension in the room that’s far too suffocating. And it only gets worse when Harry slowly pulls out of her cunt and leaves her bent over Niall’s bed, dripping onto the blanket beneath her. 
Harry clears his throat as he tucks himself back into his pants and watches Y/N wobble to her feet as she stands. They don’t look at each other, at least not face-to-face. 
Her tits are still out and his arousal on her chest has transferred to the blanket. She's quick to fix her dress and her underwear — more than a little uncomfortable with the feeling of Harry’s come dribbling out of her. 
She gnaws on the inside of her cheek. “We should leave separately, so no one suspects anything.” 
Harry’s not given much time to confer before she shimmies out of Niall’s room and down the hall to the closest bathroom. He’s left there, slightly stunned and a little embarrassed. It’s a bit confusing, it didn’t feel like a mistake after the last time. But now, with how quickly she wanted to leave, Harry worries she regrets it. 
He scratches at the back of his head, wincing at the sight of Niall’s blanket. There’s come stains on the green fabric and the joint that Y/N was supposed to hold had been dropped mid-orgasm and burnt a small hole through the blanket. 
Deciding it would be best to just replace it, Harry bunches the blanket up into a ball and shoves it in the trash can in the corner of the room — making a mental note to buy Niall a new one. 
It’s the least of his concerns, though. 
Because despite Harry’s worry about Y/N’s regret, he still craves her touch and her presence. And she’s just the same — cleaning herself up in the bathroom and splashing water in her face to try to calm down. 
All she can think about is how much she needs him and it doesn’t feel just sexual anymore. For either of them. 
What the hell have they gotten themselves into? 
//
let me know what you thought :)
tags: @stilesissaved @kiwitsayedsugar @savannahwendel @triski73 @stylesfever @kissfromadove
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koolades-world · 20 hours
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i saw the cat and corvid mc ones and i wanna see dog-like mc so bad, like one whos very loyal, loves cuddling with loved ones, if they had a tail and one of the gang came home itd be faster than a helicopter i think, if they see anyone with food theyd just come up to them with their puppy dog eyes, they just lounge around in random spots nearby the characters or even lays their head/body on them. sometimes theyll be playing with something and be possessive over it and a "Whats that in your mouth" situation comes in and they run away taking random stuff they found lying around the HoL, maybe theyre also rly playful and love playfighting and stuff like tug of war
thats just a few things that come off the top of my head lol how the mc is like is up to you, sorry if theres too much or doesnt make sense! xoxo
haha hi!!! yes of course!
this is such a fun idea. i may or may not have based this reader off my goofy goober of a dog. she's so sweet but sometimes i wonder if theres even a single thought in that head of hers haha
enjoy <3
Dog-like Mc
Lucifer
getting lock out of his bedroom always proceeds as such: being sad that you're locked out, sitting sadly in front of the door and scratching at it, lucifer feeling bad and eventually letting you in so you can sit on his bed and ruin the freshly made sheets lol
rinse and repeat the cycle nightly
the puppy dog eyes work very well on him
since he handles his brothers so often, he's good at getting you to listen when you're off in lala land or something along those lines
Mammon
he himself is kinda dog like, so the two of you get along pretty well
both of you would follow the other to the worlds end <33
you probably steal his sunglasses from time to time and he has to hunt you down to get them back, just because when he said “drop it” you accepted that as a challenge lol
the only difference in the two of you, however, is that you’re much more open with how you feel and will not hesitate to admit that you love him even if it flustered him haha
Levi
he's a little wary of having you in his room
he has lots of valuables that he treasures and while he's a little afraid you'll steal and or mess something up, he genuinely cares about you and is willing to get past that
however he did need a day away from you after you drooled on his Ruri pillow haha
after he got to know you better, he really appreciated always having an outgoing buddy to go out in public with someone that wasn't one of his brothers
Satan
sitting with him while he reads!! randomly laying your head in his lap <3
you always check out what's in his mug while he reads despite the fact that it never changes (it's always tea) but maybe one day it'll be something delicious, like chips haha
he's wary of taking you into a cat cafe, but surprisingly, all the cats love you!
now he's questioning if he's really a cat, or if he's a dog person lol
Asmo
you let him do any kind of skincare and treatments he wants on you
and he thinks it's great! until he sees you at the end of the day and it kinda looks like you swam in a mud puddle
he's not going to be the one to subject you to a bath so he always shoos you off and tells you to go clean up before you can get something else done (my dog hates water lol)
if he's ever missing one of his rather tasty smelling skincare products or a brush, or something like that, he just opens a bag of chips and summons you + beel (see below lol)
Beel
please the amount of food you're getting from him
those puppy dog eyes work so well and he can't help but give in every single time
both of you come running every time someone opens a chip bag even if it's on the other side of the house haha. if the others have issues finding you, that's how they do it quick and easy
every meal of yours is eaten together, of course
Belphie
the realest cat and dog dynamic ever!
please there's no way you're not jumping on his bed just for fun while he's sleeping in it. he's convinced it's to annoy him but it's just you being incredible oblivious and wanting to have fun
you guys are best friends. i don't make the rules haha
when you do want to nap with him, however, it's the best nap you've ever had and is probably a very cute pic
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elementroar · 9 hours
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Question about Paracelsus, does he actually like aba? I’m guessing in the older game, he mostly tolerated her because she can fight (except for the fact he deliberately chooses not to control her) but in the new one, I’m pretty much confused. When he ends his transformation, He says “That’s my answer, ABA, As your partner.” Problem is that I have no idea which meaning of “partner” he meant. It could be just fighting partners but him having a whole emotional speech and transformation for a “business partner.” If I try to look at the view of actually going for ABA’s dreams for marriage, it feels incomplete and odd because she is slowly transforming him into what she sees fit. Please I really want to know what he meant!
Side note: ABA’s feelings of jealousy and abandonment are completely valid as Paracelsus has done that! To her face! WITH A RANDOM STRANGER TO HER!!! In night of knives volume 2.
Life partner, since Paracelsus no longer really wants to fight on principle, so 'fighting partner' like he used to regard A.B.A as and originally hoped she would regard him as, that's out of the window. So if he's still resolving to stay with her, it's as a life partner. The extent of what that means to him is prolly different from A.B.A, but that can evolve over time.
Because Paracelsus, as he has stated, is an axe. He understands relationships in axe terms, which is he acknowledges his wielder (which he did acknowledge A.B.A as at the end of Night of Knives) and he kills other people that threaten them. His whole situation-ship with A.B.A has forced him to be involved in roles he was never equipped to deal with and was forced to adapt to - being an emotional support, being an actual object of attraction, having to constantly protect his wielder from herself, having to be a counsel on social norms that he shouldn't know all that well to begin with as an axe but he's expected to, having to communicate on behalf of his wielder to navigate social situations and dispel conflict - quite literally none of these are on the checklist of 'being an axe that kills people real good.
Yeah he wanted to leave A.B.A in NoK, and honestly who wouldn't? From his perspective, she was hellbent on not treating him as the weapon he wanted her to treat him as. She was figuratively and literally emotion dumping on him constantly, what with the empathetic bond prolly not helping matters. And he kept trying to dispel every delusion and assumption she had about their relationship constantly. As he was being sexually harassed despite his protests and mid-battle, constantly.
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But even back then, Slayer implied that Paracelsus never hated A.B.A personally, but her constant advances, the situations they got into, it was all frustrating to him when he really wanted to be 'just a weapon' back then.
We kinda skipped Paracelsus character development up till STRIVE but IMO, I think he figured out he had to be proactive with A.B.A, cause sticking with his "I'm a weapon, and only a weapon" principles wasn't helping. He accepted that he needed to be the responsible one of the two, that he had to kick his blood habit because it made him lose control and also got them into fights etc. He accepted that he had to change for the sake of A.B.A.
Thinking about marriage for them is kinda falling into the trap that A.B.A fell into IMO. Her theme hints that being bound by specific definitions of words or expectations may have prevented her and them from organically growing their relationship, whatever it can or would be.
Part of her major development is that she acknowledges she's been obsessed with the idea of love, but not actually truly understanding what it is. Her obsession with Paracelsus is more of her playing the part rather than understanding the feeling. Part of her growth was choosing to let go of Paracelsus for his own good, and in fact it was an expression of true love, even though she didn't realize it. Paracelsus is also learning about love and Elphelt suggested that looking out for someone is in fact a form of love, and that surprised him. He didn't seem to realize that the steps he's taken to take care of A.B.A are expressions of love themselves either.
As Paracelsus explained to A.B.A, he's not sure where their relationship will go or what the future holds for them. How their feelings will develop is still up in the air, but he tries to show A.B.A that if he could change so much, then she can too. The idea is that they're finally free to be whatever they're going to be, and they're choosing to stick together to that end, and that's the most important thing.
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jjinx1998 · 2 days
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xxtc-96xx Callout post
To start I want you to know I didn't want things to have to come to this but after recent developments and discussions from others I cannot ignore what's been going on for years now. This is a problem revolving around the user @xxtc-96xx , the comic Endertale, and the Undertale fandom. I will try to explain what I know and offer proof when I can, but there might be some sloppiness as this is my first real post on Tumblr. If there is any technical issues about this post, please let me know so I can fix it.
Let me start from the beginning. I have been a long time fan of xxtc-96xx since about 2016 (I will refer to them as TC to make it easier). I have enjoyed looking at the art they create for many years, mainly the ones revolving around Endertale.
Endertale is a fan comic that TC made of the game Undertale. It's a very decent story with a pleasant art style. I would recommend it but I cannot and I will get to why. You see TC has suffered from something that just about any creator can relate to, burnout. The most recent comic page being posted in 2021 though there was already a hiatus established before that.
While they made it long clear that they needed to go on break for personal reasons, people wanted to ask for when they will continue it. Some of them calm and reasonable and other's were very much not nice. TC answered them honestly at first.
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Then it started to devolve into troll responses or just not answering.
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Not just on Tumblr but people kept asking on Deviantart as well. In fact people are still asking today in 2024. It has gotten so frequent that TC felt it necessary to change their profile header to this:
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And it has stayed that way for so long I lost track of when it started. To be fair, even I found the frequent questions to be overwhelming and they just like every artist who makes stuff for free is entitled to take a break from their work. However this post isn't a complaint about how long it takes to finish a comic, it's about something that started because of the wait.
See, their original reason to take a break was because they were too busy with personal matters for them to commit to an actual comic. But as their history up to today has shown that's no longer a valid excuse. As time went on they started to show an interest in the Pokemon fandom. specifically the pokemon known as Mewtwo. To make a long story short, what started as small doodles grew into a whole bunch of fancomics and animations. To compare, they have drawn nearly four times as many Pokemon drawings compared to Undertale. Now, it is perfectly fair and acceptable to find an interest in a different fandom. And while I personally prefer Undertale over Pokemon I completely supported their decision to focus on other fandoms and enjoyed what they made. I also understood their issues with the fandom at the time, some people were rather aggressive, rude, or demanding the comic to be completed, a comic that's completely free that they make no profit out of. I even recall one point they tried to unsuccessfully drag a different content creator into this issue as if it would somehow work.
However I started to notice they had a warped perception on the fandom. Rather than blame the few people that harassed them online with constant asks, they believed that the entire fandom as a whole is to blame as declared it all toxic. Something they insist on repeating to all their fans and making them believe their opinion as fact.
Now for the record I am very aware of how toxic this fandom was and can be at times. I was around since the beginning and have seen just about every drama that has come. From the fans harassing you for not doing the pacifist route in the first time playing, people arguing if either Frisk or Chara is a really bad person, arguing over Frisk's and Chara's gender, is genocide the right choice, is Toriel the bad guy or Asgore, and a controversy revolving around a certain creator of the au Glitchtale (the last one TC coincidentally emulates their "Delay work for one week for every ask" and finds it amusing). I know this fandom is not the best but I love it all the same, it's as much a part of my life as it is for TC. I know I am not perfect at showing my interest for Undertale, as this image of a private ask shows.
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Or this time I made a obviously joke ask and apparently I didn't realize a lot of people don't understand sarcasm.
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Or when I tried to ask this sincere and nonaggressive question, one of the few times TC isn't putting up some kind of attitude.
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Or this other ask from me.
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At the end of the day this is just a comic. No one has any right to demand them to continue it or make death threats, this is completely unacceptable. However, at the same time this doesn't mean the creator should dehumanize the entire fandom or punish the few that are being respectful. They wait and what do they get, people mocking them and bullying them. That's what I realized in the past week when I engaged in the comments of a few posts. TC allow their fans to bully the fandom.
I tried to be as calm and reasonable as I can and yet I get called out as a toxic fan. And in the end did TC scold everyone else, no, they basically told me to shut up. I overestimated the fans intelligence and if they could handle basic logic, read the comments for yourself to see my point. As someone with Asperger and anger issues, it's a god given miracle I am still trying to maintain my composure within this insanity that has been going on for years. I have spoken with several content creators who asked to remain anonymous about this entire fiasco and we have similar conclusions about TC.
TC has been through a lot of painful and hurtful comments over the years that they did not deserve in the slightest. They are entitled to do whatever they want with their comic and works. Saying a fandom is or isn't toxic is unhelpful as you fundamentally miss the mark on how fandom culture works. As a creator, it is not right to hang this hiatus over people's heads and string them along. TC does not respect their Undertale fans in the slightest and mocks those who is still waiting. They indirectly encourage their other fans to bully and dehumanize the rest.
I held back on making a comment about all this for two reasons. One, TC's fandom terrifies me. They are complete smug hypocrites who spend way too much time on the internet that they don't realize that if they use their words in real life they will get punched in the face for it. Two, despite everything I still believe that TC can change. I like to believe the best in everyone and that there is hope that maybe this time TC will realize they have become the very thing they hate. That hope has faded to cinders. I'm done with TC, my only concern is the people remaining to wait for the comic.
To everyone who is waiting for Endertale and/or following TC because you like their Undertale stuff, leave them and never come back. They do not respect you, they look down on you, they laugh watching you wait, you deserve better than them. Even if they do finish the comic eventually it will not be made out of love or passion.
DO NOT harass and bully them because of my words. I will not tolerate any attempt to do so.
My final words are for TC if they even decide to read this:
TC, I know we are not friends, you made that clear long ago but I was hoping we could've been. You were a huge inspiration for me in the past and was what pushed me to attempt learning about art. I looked up to you and tried to support you when you were feeling down. You are no longer that person.
You do not have the right to condemn an entire fandom as toxic and declare it as a fact of life. It's people like you that keep the fandoms so divided to this day. It's because of people like you I am scared for my life if I ever mention Undertale in public. Your fixation on the sins of the past prevents us from moving forward. I do not excuse what happened but the past is in the past, get over it and grow up, you are an adult so act like it.
You say you don't owe us any comic or works, well at the same time if you want to mistreat the fandom I care about then I or anybody don't owe you any respect yet I did for nearly five years.
Why? Because I cared about how this all made you feel. What do you see when you look at me, another obsessed toxic fan who should keep their mouth shut or a PERSON with their own thoughts feelings and beliefs?
One of your problems is that you think nothing ever seems to be your fault, just the fans who keep asking. Well maybe they wouldn't have asked if you didn't leave them hanging for almost five years. To me, it no longer matters if you finish Endertale or not.
Maybe you still think it isn't your fault, then that makes me the idiot for hoping you can be better. You hurt me, really hurt me. I don't think I can ever trust someone like you again.
Do you know what I really want?
Your apology. I want you to make a genuine apology to me and the fandom at your actions over the years. I won't block you because being the idiot I am I hope my words mean something to you and you'll want to chat.
But until you wise up ask yourself this familiar question,
Do you really think you are above consequences?
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I come bearing another potential "sequel" idea. Obviously you don't have to write this. I randomly thought back to the "Sebastian with a reverse PA" story and, well...
Let's say f!MC decides she wants to return the favor, in a way. She decides to get a piercing of her own that can help stimulate them both. My mind says either a tongue piercing or a fourchette piercing, but that's completely up to you if you decide you like this idea 🤭
Anyways, she gets it and it becomes so hard not to ruin the surprise and she's holding off because it's still healing. She has to keep coming up with excuses for why they can't (too tired, have to study, etc). Both Seb and MC are sexually frustrated so by the time she feels it's healed enough, it's feral while also trying to be careful with both piercings.
(I'm just realizing how both my requests have a bit of a theme to them. Don't know what that says about me 🤣 Anyways, much love 💜)
Piercings pt3 - Sebastian Sallow X F!MC
🔥 NSFW 🔞 MDNI
My lovely cyan1de, your brain is absolutely filthy and I love it 🫶🏻. I’ve taken your inspo but I changed the piercing to something with a little less heal time for the stories sake. Hope you like it anyway 💕. Thank you as always for the requests!
Warnings: descriptions of healing piercing, please have mercy and if you get a ‘spicy’ piercing let it heal fully/follow aftercare instructions so you don’t get an infection, modern college a/u, unprotected p-in-v, oral f receiving, mattress fucking?
2k words
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Things had been incredible between them. While they had no label per say, they very much went on dates, spent the night with each other and hooked up fairly regularly.
She knew his birthday was only a few weeks away and while he swore he only wanted to spend the day with her and refused gift ideas, she had a fun little idea that had manifested after a saucy conversation or two about piercings.
After talking plenty about his she’d decided to ask what he’d think if a partner were to get one. He chuckled and gave her a wild playful look, hair messy from the combination of sweat and her fingers carding through it. “Wouldn’t mind it. What? You thinking about getting one?”
She’d only shrugged playfully, pretending to mull it over. She couldn’t deny the fact that she had in fact been thinking about getting a piercing ever since their first encounter. “Well if you do decide you want one-“ he paused to wiggle his brows and glanced at her bare chest “or two…I think it would be hot. But don’t feel like you need one just because I got one.”
She’d of course done her research of healing and pain and decided her top contender was a VCH piercing. Between the benefits, healing time, and the aesthetics of it she decided that would be the piercing she got.
Her roommate had agreed to go with her and hold her hand while she got it done, all kinds of on board for her and Sebastian since she seemed to be really happy since they’d started hooking up.
Thankfully the piercing wasn’t too painful, a big pinch and a bit of soreness but nothing she couldn’t handle. Her roommate had been hysterically laughing since she’d gotten home to look at it and her first words uttered were “She’s so pretty!”.
The next day Sebastian had tried to come over between classes for a bit of midday fun. But she’d quickly made the excuse that she was really tired and needed a nap. She’d also carefully evaded going back to his after a coffee date by saying she had to do some extra studying.
Luckily she’d been able to just get away with a good blowjob for him on the couch during their movie night at his place later in the week. He’d started to get a little suspicious after about two weeks of evaded sexual encounters or only blowjobs. “You know you can talk to me right? Like if something is wrong…is something wrong?”
She quickly waved him off just saying she’s been having some hormone changes which have made her tired and have a lower libido. In all honesty she was having an incredibly hard time telling him no, but she was almost halfway through the recovery and was determined to surprise him with her new piercing. “Love, is this because of your period?” He’d said while nipping the spot just below her ear, grinding against her thigh. “You know I don’t mind a bit of blood, I’ll still take good care of her. I promise.”
She of course already knew this since they’d already had period sex and he hadn’t been deterred in the slightest. Of course he’d been all too accommodating of her surge of desires during her ovulating week though.
He whispered incredibly sweet things and treated her like a princess but they definitely were a very sexually active couple. So when his hands began to wander when she stayed the night just a few days into her third week of healing she was losing her battle.
He whispered raunchy filth into her ear, rubbing and grinding against her inner thigh and moving closer to her crotch. One intense drag against her had her wincing and her mouth falling open.
Sebastian immediately stopped, cupping her face in his palms. “What’s wrong, love? Did I hurt you? Are you okay?”
She finally broke down, just three days before his birthday she felt like it was unavoidable at this point. She flashed a shy smile, looking up at him cheekily. “So you know how I talked to you about getting a piercing right?”
Sebastian’s lust lidded eyes popped and she swore she saw them sparkle. “You didn’t.” He looked down between them as if he’d see it through her clothes. He looked back up with wide eyes. “Holy shit…what did you get pierced?”
She laughed and rolled him off of her, carefully shimmying out of her pajama shorts and spreading her legs for him. “Surprise! Happy Birthday.”
His eyes darkened and he looked up, licking his lips. “Gods I’ve missed your pussy…and now she’s all pretty for me. God you know you didn’t have to do that.”
She smiled, blushing as he looked back down in awe. “I wanted it. It wasn’t just for you, promise. What do you think?”
He licked his lips again and she practically moaned from the look on his face. “How long till it’s healed?”
She bit into her bottom lip nervously. “Healing time is 4-8 weeks and it’s been 3 weeks and 4 days.”
His eyes widened. “You got it to be healed perfectly on my birthday…” he crawled up the side of her body, holding her neck carefully in his palm and he whispered against her lips. “Naughty girl.”
He kissed her deeply, tasting her and groaning into their kiss. She could feel his arousal against her thigh and it had her moaning into his kiss. He pulled back, eyes dark and lusty. “You can’t make those sounds, not when I still need to let that pretty little pussy heal up baby.”
She practically whined against his lips. The soreness had long since disappeared and she knew if she kept things clean that it would likely be fine for them to fool around a bit. She pushed at him till he was shoved out of bed and standing beside it, confused. “You’ve showered, right?”
He nodded, a confused tilt of his chin as she waved him towards the bathroom. His gray shorts doing very little to cover all the freckles littering his skin or the bulging mass thickening between his legs. “Go wash your hands then come back to bed.”
His eyes bulged and he hurried to the bathroom. He came back quickly, sliding into bed with her. She could smell his hand soap and smiled up at him as he crowded over her. “What are you comfortable doing? I don’t want to hurt you.”
She reached between them, palming his erection through the sweatpants he wore and hummed softly with approval. “I need this tonight, that is, if you’ll give it to me.”
He ground against her hand, leaning down to nuzzle into her neck and inhale her scent. He groaned, rolling his hips harder before frustration pulled somewhere inside him and he reached down to free his aching cock. It sprung free, cool air kissing his swollen leaking tip, silver barbell glinting in the low light. “Gods I’ve needed your pussy.”
She giggled breathily as he notched himself at her entrance, sitting up to watch the head of himself disappearing, his eyes fixed eagerly on her brilliant new piercing. His mouth practically watered with the urge to roll his tongue against it, use his tongue to flick the jewelry over her sensitized clit. “Does it increase your stimulation?”
She nodded, gasping as the head of his cock sunk inside. She was tight from their lack of fucking and she felt him pulse excitedly from inside of her walls. “Y-yes, even just cleaning it and looking at it in the shower, whenever I bump it, feels so good.”
He groaned in agony, shutting his eyes and sliding another inch or so inside, rolling his hips to increase her friction and spread the wetness. “Gods your so fucking tight. Been too long since you've been stretched around my cock, love.”
She nodded, gripping his shoulders. His hand slid down, barely pressing against the jewelry and she cried out, legs wrapping around his waist. Holding himself back was going to be a feat and a half.
He sunk the rest of the way inside her and she constricted around him. He nudged the jewelry against her clit again and her head tossed backwards in pleasure. The sight of her falling into pleasure was absolutely breathtaking. He groaned, adjusting to straddle on leg, bringing the other so her knee hooked up over his shoulder, now spread apart his pubic bone ground against the piercing and had her moans heightening in pitch.
His thrusts were slow rolls that casually surged to desperately needy thrusts that he couldn’t hold back no matter how badly he tried. She felt far too good and it had been far too long. “God you’re cock, oh and the way your r-rubbing the piercing. Fuck, I’m gonna cum!”
He chuckled as she gripped the sheets and arched up as she tightened like a vice around him. He tried to keep a cocky tone in his voice but it came out far more strained than he’d hoped. “Oh yea? Already, baby? That little piercing really does help you out, doesn’t it?”
He pressed a thumb right over the jewelry and she lurched up, practically shrieking as she rippled around him, crashing over her edge so fast. He groaned, surging his hips through her orgasm till she finally stilled, loud cries dulling to whimpering coos.
He pulled out of her, having her look down at him in hazy confusion as he settled, laying himself between her legs, spreading her warm thighs open in front of him. She flushed all the way from her cheeks to her thighs as he groaned, spreading her open and grinding his hips against the bed, glutes flexing and drawing her attention before he whispered in a gruff tone. “Fuck it.”
He dove in, licking her cunt from her silky wet opening and up to her newly decorated clit. He moaned at the taste and she frantically reached for the mass of fluffy hair. “S-Seb you can’t! You just fucked me there!”
He made another groan, rolling his hips steadily against the mattress. “I don’t care. This pussy is mine and I’ll eat it whenever I want to. I don’t care if your fresh out of the shower or freshly fucked and filled with my cum. I’ll taste you whenever the fuck I feel like it.”
Heat pooled deliciously between her legs as his tongue flicked precariously over the jewelry through her hood. He teased it over her clit, ran his tongue below it and tortured her with direct pressure that had her absolutely wild and all the while his hips never stopped against the bed.
The sight from between her legs had her quickly climbing the rungs of another orgasm. Her tugs in his hair became more urgent as her toes curled against the warm blankets and her thighs bracketed his head as she arched up into his talented tongue.
She came, shuddering and loose against his face and she didn’t stop till finally he lifted his head, licking her shiny wetness from his lips and chin.
Her eyes bulged when he sat up and she saw the strings of cum trailing from his cock to the blanket. Had he really fucked their sheets till he came while eating her out?
His eyes met hers and he glanced to where she was looking, chuckling and using that low satisfied tone that made her tingle. “How about I change the sheets while you shower off so everything stays clean?”
She swallowed, nodding and getting up into shaking feet and padding into his bathroom while he tossed sheets into the wash. He joined her and a whole new fresh wave of arousal rising inside of her as his erection slipped between the cleft of her ass and she was suddenly wondering if the slap of his balls against her clit as he fucked her from behind would feel as good as it sounded.
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acourtofthought · 5 hours
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@starsreminisce posted these comments on their blog:
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And the last paragraph really stood out to me.
Something I've seen said by a certain side of the fandom is that a bonus chapter should not change the trajectory of what is in the actual book. I disagree with that because I look at the bonus chapters as a sneak peek of what's to come in future books (with this particular bonus following the pattern talked about in a post yesterday, with the resolution to the small story pointing us in the direction of Gwynriel), things that Sarah will at a later point expound on within the actual series even if they weren't initially clear to us without having read the bonus.
But say that's the truth, say the bonus chapters are only in line with that which we already know (which still works for Gwynriel because though the bonus hinted at Gwyn having a curiosity towards Az and him possibly having a bond with her, we do see bits of that in the actual book as well, there are scenes with her staring in his direction and scenes where he's staring in hers, where he shows admiration for her, where she's teasing him, where Nesta calls Az her new ribbon).
One of the big arguments is that it's extremely clear that Elain has no interest in Lucien, that it's been the case for multiple books. It's said Elain does not owe Lucien an explanation, that she does not owe him her time or attention.
So why not write an Elain bonus chapter in SF where she and Lucien have a conversation discussing how they don't want to explore their bond? According to E/riels there's no need for it in the first place since she's made herself clear but they have also claimed that she won't break the bond until we have her POV. Then wouldn't a bonus in Elain's POV before her book be the perfect place for something that's so obvious so that when she starts her own book "with Az", there's nothing standing in their way and the focus can be on their romance and the plot and not the emotional toll that her severing her bond with Lucien would take? If the Elucien bond is as much of a non issue as some claim it be be, then why not deal with it in an Elain Bonus Chapter? When her book starts, Sarah could even recap the events of the bonus for those who had missed it.
Elain thought back to that conversation she and Lucien shared shortly after Solstice. Where after Azriel's rejection, which had cut her deeply, she realized there was no place in her heart for anyone but Az even if she wasn't sure he still wanted her.
That would have actually be a perfect way for SJM to move us past the Elucien bond with very little in the way of feeling devastated on Lucien's behalf, where his heart is not being broken in real time within her romantic arc.
But the author didn't do that. She gave Az and FEYRE a POV. Feyre who already had 3 books and a novella and Elain with a total of 0.
We know Az doesn't think Lucien is good enough for Elain but we don't know if Elain agrees with that.
We know Az questioned the Cauldron because of his brothers and her sisters, that he hadn't thought of being with Elain beyond his sexual fantasies but we don't know where Elain stands on the whole "just wants one taste / why wasn't Az made my mate" debate.
We know Az thought of Elain as too trusting and hopeful but we've no clue whether Elain was really thinking anything of the sort.
We've got Feyre thinking back on how she made sure to keep her mouth shut on Elain not wearing Lucien's gloves, how had she put them on she would have never been pierced in the first place but we still don't know whether Elain's actions with the gloves actually line up with her thoughts.
If Sarah wanted to continue on with what is apparently so evident in the four books of buildup for E/riel there was nothing preventing her from finally giving us Elain's POV in SF and having her tell Lucien that there's no reason for him to hold out hope any longer.
The more likely explanation for why Elain wasn't given a bonus is because everything that E/riels and Az claim that is so very obvious regarding Elain's character might actually not be as obvious as they think.
If she's so happy in the NC, then why hide her thoughts?
If she's so in love with Az, that it's clear as day, then why hide her thoughts?
If she's so disinterested in Lucien, then why hide her thoughts?
If we're supposed to believe that Elain's choice is Az, that there is no competition and that it should not be a mystery to anyone at this point, then why has she been so reticent to put us into Elain's head?
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in Defence of Creek ( warning if your an Avid Creek Hater you may not want to read this 😂😂 )
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ps. Branch will Hair strangle some guy he Barely knew who he didn't even care about for betraying them but doesn't do the same to his Jerkass Brothers who let him down his whole life 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️.
anyway onto the topic at hand 😂😂😂😂
Creek gets an unfair Rap in my opinion sure he technically betrayed the village but when you examine the story of the first film he literally had no other choice.
as there's no other scenario that didn't end with him being Horribly Eaten as soon as he was picked by Chef for Gristle Jr to eat and taken out of the cage his fate was sealed.
unlike the rest of the snack pack he didn't have the option of sitting around waiting on the off chance Poppy would Rescue them.
we see in the Betrayal scene he was literally in Gristle's mouth before he finally played the only card he could and said he'd do what ever they wanted him to do.
and from then on he was kept in Gristle's locket around his neck which I have to say was Horrible poor guy was stuffed in their with no space or light or even air given how tight it was.
and he was kept there until eventually being moved out of the locket and put into Chef's waist bag just before the snack pack got the Locket from Gristle and were then captured by Chef.
and from that point like Creek himself said there was literally nothing else he could do that wouldn't result in him being killed straight away by Chef.
this is what rubs me the wrong way about the movie trying to make him into a villain he has no real agency in the betrayal it'd be a little easier for me to Judge him.
if he was kept in the cage with the Rest of the Snack Pack so he had the option of just having faith in Poppy someone he claimed to care about.
coming to save them but instead he took the more cowardly action and offered to sell everyone out early on in order to save himself then I feel it'd work a little better.
but having him be plucked from the cage early on and literally only betray everyone when he was on the verge of being eaten just makes him a victim in my eyes.
like I'm sorry but he can't be blamed too much for anything he does at that point he's just a normal civilian who's life was put in danger by negligent leaders ( cough Peppy cough ).
he technically wasn't obligated to die then and there and the whole situation with him selling out the Village is a classic Trolley Problem sure its easy to Judge.
from the outside but when we're on the verge of being gruesomely murdered who's to say what each of us would do in the moment to stay alive.
basically its Chef's actions and she's the one to blame not Creek dude was a literal Hostage who had been kidnaped Humiliated by being shoved in a taco and sprinkled with spicy stuff.
and then nearly eaten and then crammed into a tiny locket for presumably Hours and then crammed into a waist bag like how is this guy not the victim here?
and some people do like to point to how he behaved about the whole thing telling Poppy he's doing it for her but I'm sorry that doesn't change anything in my eyes.
sure its an unusual reaction but its also an unusual situation and I see it more as him weakly attempting to justify it to himself since he does admit he wishes there was another way but is promptly reminded by Chef that there isn't.
his Reaction isn't Great but it doesn't change the situation and make him some pure evil person.
a little autistic maybe? given the weird response to an emotional situation he has but yeah it doesn't make him worse in my eyes.
basically to end things the film as well as the fandom that villainise him seem to basically be saying that he should have just laid down and accepted his gruesome fate the first time.
and the movie even ends on a cruel irony of still being eaten along with Chef.
which for Chef is ironic in a karmic way but for Creek its just kinda sad tbh so the film's saying his death was decided at the start and he's a villain for not accepting it the first time.
and as punishment he meets the same fate in the end anyway.
I thought this was a Trolls film not a Final Destination film lol.
anyway even tho its separate cannon I was Happy when he was Revealed to still be alive in TBGO sure I feel his Return could have been written way better.
but Regardless I'm Glad he's still alive he didn't deserve to die and also the movie cannon never contradicts the tv show cannon in Terms of Creek's survival.
so yeah he could very well still be alive in the movies as well sorry Haters 😅😅😅😅.
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md-confessions · 18 hours
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Trigger Warning for abuse since I am going to be talking about it a lot.
My honest reaction to TSM anon's confessions/posts trying to justify J's treatment of N. (They're so ass)
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Ok so uhh... Anyway I'll try to debunk some of the points:
First of all: yes the fuck she is abusive! Search the damn definition on Google or the dictionary, it's exactly what she's doing, like beat for beat.
Let's start with two examples: one from the manor and another from copper-9.
J kicking N in the manor flashback: for context N and V had literally just bumped into each other, made a spark and both were trying to clean up the mess they made, then comes in Ms. Tenth letter of the alphabet with a kick to N's face for like no fucking reason whatsoever.
J stepping on N's chest while he clearly struggles: In the pilot during the scene that introduces the Alphabet squad during J's introduction she has her foot on his chest while saying he's useless, terrible and if she could, she'd kill him herself and N is very clearly struggling to even breath.
Those two very clearly ARE abuse, the second one even has a tinge of verbal abuse!
Ok so TSM tried to justify both these actions by us not knowing the full context.
The context of the kick is that: there is none, that kick was completely unprovoked, so J had absolutely no reason for kicking N aside from him being in her way from the "move it moron" line, and she changes up her attitude completely at Tessa being there, her visor showing those hollow eyes that drones show when worried or scared.
But even if you say "oh but N was in J's way so she kicked him out" but she could have just, you know, MOVED A LITTLE BIT TO THE RIGHT?!?!? And also that does not excuse kicking a person in the face.
Context of the second scene is: THERE IS NONE, ONE AGAIN! The reason that scene exists is to show that A. J is abusive towards N, and B. J is a hypocrite! Let me explain, A is very self explanatory, stepping on someone's chest and verbally abusing them is very clearly well... Abuse and B is to show that even though she calls N useless, N has shown throughout the rest of the series he is a very competent fighter, arguably better than his fellow DDs and also that even though J was pretty much insulting N for being weak, she got killed by a Angsty bisexual 18-year-old with a pen and a Railgun made out of like, scrap.
I don't know how you can genuinely look at those scenes and go "J isn't an abuser" even though yes she fucking is.
Also I dead ass forgot that second post aside from the "why would Cyn put N in the squad if his abuser?" Part, which has a very simple explanation: it wasn't Cyn, it was Mr. Solver of the absolute fabric itself! It used Cyn as a host, Cyn wasn't in control, she prob has been dead for a long ass time.
The solver is sadistic and it likes fucking with the alphabet squad, take V as an example: it allowed V to keep her memories, just to make V's trauma even worse.
The solver thinks it's funny to traumatize people so why wouldn't it think putting a person in the same team as their abuser wouldn't be?
Anyways I've been typing this since 5:30 AM, and now it's 6:50 and I got school so I'll stop here, if you got anything else to add put it in the reblogs ig...
Final note: I haven't been abused myself (not that I remember) so I can't really fully grasp the concept, but still, J's treatment of N is like, the dictionary definition of Abuse, I'm very bad at understanding other people and their emotions and I'm not super great at analysing characters but this shit is so obviously abuse seeing TSM over here trying to say otherwise is giving me a brain aneurysm.
Anyways have a good day/evening/night or whatever time of day it is :D
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